i hadn't seen Ma yet from when i was on Christmas break. i had just gone through the ordeal with Watchman and Sakola and didn't want to disrespect her too, but if she asked where her X-mas gift was i was quitting my apprenticeship.
i knocked on her gate.
"COME!" she blurted.
i walked through her patio to her front door. i could see through the screen that she was in her spot, greasin' it up.
she saw me and yelled "MY CHIIIILLDD!!! COME COME COME!" her arms were held out wide, expecting a hug. it was the first motherly hug i'd gotten in quite some time. she didn't move out of her chair to do it, but that didn't matter. i threw myself at her and just soaked up the moment. the very strange moment. she held me, and shook me and rubbed my arms a bit and then spat me out on to her couch.
"How was your Christmas in Ho?"
I told her all about it. About the waterfalls and what i ate, about the hospital and how loudly the women yell.
"and you?" i asked. "how was your Christmas?"
"OHHHHHH, it was sweet. I was with my family, they took me to Accra. We ate fufuo and celebrated. Verrry nice." She hummed for a few seconds after she said this and i could tell she was well nourished. We all needed the break apparently.
The moment fell into an awkward silence. I don't think i've had a still time with Ma that didn't follow with a quiet lull and nothing to say. I was just glad it wasn't being filled up with "What did you get me for Xmas?". Though, since she wasn't bringing it up, i thought i would. i barely knew how to communicate without the phrase somehow circulating itself into conversation.
"Ma? People have been asking me why i didn't buy them a Xmas gift and-"
"WHO?"
"well, everyone i've seen, except Secetry."
"HUMPF. I'm sorry for that. It is the Ghanaian way and it isn't good."
"am i supposed to be getting gifts for all these people?"
"NO.NO. Who says you should be getting gifts for these people? You are the foreigner. Did they get YOU anything? Don't bother with them, it is the Ghanaian way to beg. They should be getting you gifts. HUMPF."
i was glad i stopped by Ma's.
"Are you coming to work tomorrow?" she asked me.
"Yes, i will be here." i said.
"Okay then, i will see you."
and i left.
i walked through town early the next morning and a taxi buzzed by me on its way to the clinic.
YES! it was not even 9 and already i knew my day was going to be exciting. i ran through the back way, behind scattered mud houses, jumping over chickens and dodging herds of goats. i wanted to get there fast, you never knew what kind of a case was coming in.
"She's a primi." Ma said. "This will take quite some time. You can go into the office and relax. Eat your porridge."
I don't like eating before witnessing a birth. A month earlier, I didn't like eating before or after a birth, and i've lost 10 pounds because of it. although my skin is getting thicker. i am also becoming more bold with Ma.
"No, i think i'll just stay right here." i told her.
she let me and i was in the room for hours with the young lady and her pain.
Ma, Efreeyeh, and i were all gathered around, watching the head make its slow journey out. Ma sat back down and told me to tell her when it was really coming. i thought it'd be a perfect time for a picture so i muttered under my breath "i wish i could take a photo right now." originally i had planned to photo document my time here, but i don't have the personality or guts to whip out a camera at the moments i'd really like to. like now.
"Too bad you didn't bring a camera." Ma said.
"I did!"
"Well then, GO GET IT!"
"but shouldn't we ask the mother, if it's okay?"
"as for her" Ma said "she has nothing to say about it."
i wasn't sure what that meant. i ran and got my camera. i stood far away from everyone and tried to secretly take a shot.
"COME and stand here. You can't get anything from back there." Ma was standing at the edge of the table, by the woman's feet. It seemed awfully close and intrusive. But i went. I took 1 picture of the (partial) birth, 1 of Efreeyeh and 1 of Ma. Then i put the camera down and went to collect the baby. Ma was untangling the cord from around it's neck like a she was unwrapping a complicated Christmas present.
"See how the cord has done this?"
Then she clamped and cut the cord and handed the baby to me.
The little body was limp.
i waited a few seconds expecting it to surge with life and a blasting scream, but nothing happened.
"Ma the baby is soft." i said.
"Take it to the table then." she replied.
I cradled the child and went over to the newborn station. i put her down and lifted her limbs. This is what a limp baby feels like, i told myself. Is this how a child dies? Can a child die?
I knew it was possible but i couldn't imagine it happening in my world.
"Ma i don't think this baby has much life. Can you please come over here and help me?"
She walked over and assessed what was before us. I was right. She took her hand and rubbed the tiny chest furiously. I assumed she knew what she was doing. I desperately wished i had some type of schooling so that i could help too, and also to know if what Ma was doing was an ideal method or not. I thought back to a Spanish bumper sticker my college roommate had that said "Nunca sacuda una bebe. Jamas." (or something along those lines) Never shake a baby, ever.
I wondered if this rubbing would be considered shaking.
The baby coughed and blinked her eyes a bit, and came to life more than she had before, but she was still different than the rest. She wasn't thriving. Ma seemed to think it was okay, and ordered Efreeyeh to do the wash. Then we both dressed her in a blue onesie, wrapped her in a stiff white cloth, and she was handed over to me to go to the nursery. I walked half way there and couldn't do it. I didn't want to put this little weak baby alone in a crib. i walked back to Ma.
"Ma could we please let the baby be with her mom?"
"Okay. Put her on the table."
So i did.
a minute later Ma said "Alright, now take the baby to the nursery."
60 seconds was better than nothing.
I carried the baby away and sat holding her in my arms waiting for the mother to come. I examined her fingernails. They were long and really needed trimming. How was that possible? I concluded a baby with long healthy fingernails was only meant to live, so i put her away in the crib and went back to clean up.
Later i went into Maame Vic's office and told her about the ordeal. Or what i considered an ordeal.
"I don't think Ma was worried at all, but the baby was limp."
She shook her head and frowned. "In that case, you have to give the baby some medicine to help her brain, because she might go home and start twitching and have damage."
The thought saddened me. It made me want to go to Midwifery school.
"but like i said, Ma is old-fashioned in her ways. She might not recognize. If the birth is taking long, you have to be quick! Quick! Quick in delivering."
Were we too lax? Should it have been done differently? I had to remind myself that Ma in her entire lifetime as a midwife has only seen the death of 3 babies. She was experienced. It was my lack of knowledge that was plaguing me.
"Well thanks for talking" i told Maame Vic.
"Come back later and we can talk some more."
"I will." I said.
I walked out of her office and thought back to that morning. The family had flooded the maternity ward, bringing food and water, new clothes and enormous cheer. I sat in the nursery with them all, mostly to secretly observe the baby AND to see how their culture responded to a newborn and her mother.
It seemed generally the same. The new grandmother was proud and the sister was telling the new mother to EAT! A lot of others were gathered in a semicircle around the baby's bed, laughing and thankful. Not to mention they were getting a kick out of the white girl in their midst.
The biggest difference was when the taxi came back. We walked out of the maternity ward, and they let me hold the child. I kept her until they had all gotten into the car, all 8 of them. It was a "5-seater". I handed them their newest member, making that 9 people.
"Thank you so much" Grandmother said. "You should come back with us!"
I looked at the car, and the family and laughed.
"BYE!!!!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!" i yelled. that baby was going to be just fine.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
trust me and take it!
Weeks ago i scared a chameleon into taking a suicide leap into the depths of the well. it splashed around for a helpless 30 seconds or so and then sunk to the great unknown. i didn't mean to and in fact i've been thinking about it ever since. not because i'm that much of an animal lover, mostly because the well is my main water source.
sakola told me he was sick and instantly i thought of the lizard. he drinks that water straight. i buy mine filtered and bagged. i asked him what hurt (i've gotten good at pretending i'm a doctor) and he patted his stomach.
when i was at senam's i too was suffering from an irritable stomach, and i assumed i had parasites. i thought back to a time when i spent a summer backpacking Hawaii with my best friend Sara. i went out dancing with friends and returned to her throwing up. our close friend who had been on the island for quite some time knew of a local remedy. skin a piece of aloe and eat it. then swallow 2 spoonfuls of papaya seeds and whaalaa!
i asked senam if there was aloe in Africa. he said of course and had some to me by nightfall. i put it in some water, and never took it due to my paranoia. i didn't see the plant it came from and wondered if there was a strand of poisonous aloe that i hadn't heard about yet. the headlines would read "WHITE GIRL DIES FROM EATING FLESH OF POSIONSOUS CACTUS" and everybody would look at each other wondering what in the world i had done that for. i wouldn't even be around to explain.
so instead i carried it a half day and 3 bus rides later into Boamadumase. i stashed it in the corner of my room and didn't think about it until Sakola was groaning holding his belly.
"stay there. i have aduro (medicine). i'm coming back."
i ran in my room and grabbed the aloe. then i went in the kitchen and got my papaya i had bought earlier that day. i was going to fix his problem and wow him with my use of all natural remedies!
he was stretched out on the ground with his eyes closed. i walked over and bent down with my goods.
he looked at me like i was insane.
i completely understood.
then i tried to explain. in twi.
once he got the gist he refused to be my patient. i yelled at him and told him he had to be! i was trying to tell him the papaya seeds wouldn't taste all that bad if he just swallowed them whole. he still would not budge, so i just kept saying the same thing over and over.
"if you take this you will feel better."
i wasn't very certain myself, still clinging to a minute worry about the plant. but i was having too much fun, i couldn't ruin it by asking if he knew whether or not the food i was about to give him was poison.
"take the papaya seed and-"
he put his hand over my mouth and said very slowly in english.
"this" he held up the papaya "is bor-efre." and then he knocked me on the side of my head.
we both laughed hard.
i had been telling him to eat the seeds of a yam for the past 10 minutes. he had been kind enough to give me the respect and act like what i was saying made sense.
"okay, whatever." i said in english. "eat the seeds."
"no. it's cold."
we had already had this conversation. he didn't like eating papaya at night or when it was cold.
"you don't have to eat the borefre, just eat its seeds."
he sat there like a child refusing his peas. then, his stomach got the better of him.
he swallowed the aloe just as i had remembered Sara doing it, with a soured face and a struggle to make it happen. then he took one spoonful of the seeds. he spit a few out through the gap between his two front teeth.
"okay" i said handing him the last spoonful.
he was convulsing his body. it was the first time i'd seen him be over dramatic.
"take it!" i yelled. i felt like Ma. she would have been proud.
10 minutes later he finished the dosage and looked at me like i had just drowned his kitten.
then i decided maybe it would be a good idea to pray for his stomach too. Sakola is a prayer warrior, and he thought it would was a fine thing to do.
"dear God" i said. i made sure to do this all in english. i didn't want him to understand. "i'm asking you to improve the state of Sakola's health, and i pray that the aloe was the kind i know of. if it wasn't, it'd be great if you could perform a miracle for me, thanks, in Jesus' name, Amen."
"Amen" Sakola said.
He woke up the next morning looking great and feeling great. His stomach had been cured. I'd like to think it was my late night nursing session, but if it wasn't that is even better.
sakola told me he was sick and instantly i thought of the lizard. he drinks that water straight. i buy mine filtered and bagged. i asked him what hurt (i've gotten good at pretending i'm a doctor) and he patted his stomach.
when i was at senam's i too was suffering from an irritable stomach, and i assumed i had parasites. i thought back to a time when i spent a summer backpacking Hawaii with my best friend Sara. i went out dancing with friends and returned to her throwing up. our close friend who had been on the island for quite some time knew of a local remedy. skin a piece of aloe and eat it. then swallow 2 spoonfuls of papaya seeds and whaalaa!
i asked senam if there was aloe in Africa. he said of course and had some to me by nightfall. i put it in some water, and never took it due to my paranoia. i didn't see the plant it came from and wondered if there was a strand of poisonous aloe that i hadn't heard about yet. the headlines would read "WHITE GIRL DIES FROM EATING FLESH OF POSIONSOUS CACTUS" and everybody would look at each other wondering what in the world i had done that for. i wouldn't even be around to explain.
so instead i carried it a half day and 3 bus rides later into Boamadumase. i stashed it in the corner of my room and didn't think about it until Sakola was groaning holding his belly.
"stay there. i have aduro (medicine). i'm coming back."
i ran in my room and grabbed the aloe. then i went in the kitchen and got my papaya i had bought earlier that day. i was going to fix his problem and wow him with my use of all natural remedies!
he was stretched out on the ground with his eyes closed. i walked over and bent down with my goods.
he looked at me like i was insane.
i completely understood.
then i tried to explain. in twi.
once he got the gist he refused to be my patient. i yelled at him and told him he had to be! i was trying to tell him the papaya seeds wouldn't taste all that bad if he just swallowed them whole. he still would not budge, so i just kept saying the same thing over and over.
"if you take this you will feel better."
i wasn't very certain myself, still clinging to a minute worry about the plant. but i was having too much fun, i couldn't ruin it by asking if he knew whether or not the food i was about to give him was poison.
"take the papaya seed and-"
he put his hand over my mouth and said very slowly in english.
"this" he held up the papaya "is bor-efre." and then he knocked me on the side of my head.
we both laughed hard.
i had been telling him to eat the seeds of a yam for the past 10 minutes. he had been kind enough to give me the respect and act like what i was saying made sense.
"okay, whatever." i said in english. "eat the seeds."
"no. it's cold."
we had already had this conversation. he didn't like eating papaya at night or when it was cold.
"you don't have to eat the borefre, just eat its seeds."
he sat there like a child refusing his peas. then, his stomach got the better of him.
he swallowed the aloe just as i had remembered Sara doing it, with a soured face and a struggle to make it happen. then he took one spoonful of the seeds. he spit a few out through the gap between his two front teeth.
"okay" i said handing him the last spoonful.
he was convulsing his body. it was the first time i'd seen him be over dramatic.
"take it!" i yelled. i felt like Ma. she would have been proud.
10 minutes later he finished the dosage and looked at me like i had just drowned his kitten.
then i decided maybe it would be a good idea to pray for his stomach too. Sakola is a prayer warrior, and he thought it would was a fine thing to do.
"dear God" i said. i made sure to do this all in english. i didn't want him to understand. "i'm asking you to improve the state of Sakola's health, and i pray that the aloe was the kind i know of. if it wasn't, it'd be great if you could perform a miracle for me, thanks, in Jesus' name, Amen."
"Amen" Sakola said.
He woke up the next morning looking great and feeling great. His stomach had been cured. I'd like to think it was my late night nursing session, but if it wasn't that is even better.
akwaaba!
Secetry informed me a German man will be coming next Saturday to live in the house.
"Has he ever been to Africa?" i asked.
"No, never."
"and he's coming here first? or is he staying in Accra for a while and then coming?"
"he will arrive at the airport and make his way up here. why?"
i was trying to put myself in the German man's shoes. the experience of transportation, and the house, and the village, and the roommates was strange enough even with my prior time spent here, i can't imagine what it will be like for him being "fresh". this is going to be really funny. i hope he has a good sense of humor. and if he doesn't at least i do.
my roommates aren't excited, which really surprised me. i thought Ghanaians were hospitable to everyone. after a long after dinner talk i deduced they didn't want a Germani bema living in the house, and that they wouldn't invite him to eat with us, ever. they would go to bed early so they wouldn't have to talk with him, and make him fetch his own water.
i was appalled.
"you are mean."
no one knew what mean meant, and Collins wasn't around to translate.
"that is bad." i said instead.
they all started laughing and pounding the table. they thought it was hilarious.
i liked seeing this other side of them. i knew i wasn't a tourist. i wasn't seeing the big smile and arms wide open. i was witnessing family talk around the kitchen table, and i decided to be the perfect daughter.
"well, when he comes i will be nice to him. what room is he sleeping in?"
they all pointed at the door in the corner.
"ohhhhhhh, you are really mean!" i couldn't hold back laughing. it was the only room in the house completely inundated with mosquitoes. if you walk in and look closely, little bloody carcasses are smashed up against the wall, after having buzzed in some body's ear a little too long. i wasn't sure who slept there now, different people walked out every other morning.
poor guy. from what i am imagining he is going to have an interesting first week.
i can hardly imagine the boys holding back their hospitality. its as much a part of them as their toenails. or at least i think it is. i guess i'll just have to wait and find out...
"Secetry? Does the health clinic sell mosquito nets?"
"Yes Kessy, we do."
"Where would i go to buy wrapping paper?"
*************************************************************************************
"Has he ever been to Africa?" i asked.
"No, never."
"and he's coming here first? or is he staying in Accra for a while and then coming?"
"he will arrive at the airport and make his way up here. why?"
i was trying to put myself in the German man's shoes. the experience of transportation, and the house, and the village, and the roommates was strange enough even with my prior time spent here, i can't imagine what it will be like for him being "fresh". this is going to be really funny. i hope he has a good sense of humor. and if he doesn't at least i do.
my roommates aren't excited, which really surprised me. i thought Ghanaians were hospitable to everyone. after a long after dinner talk i deduced they didn't want a Germani bema living in the house, and that they wouldn't invite him to eat with us, ever. they would go to bed early so they wouldn't have to talk with him, and make him fetch his own water.
i was appalled.
"you are mean."
no one knew what mean meant, and Collins wasn't around to translate.
"that is bad." i said instead.
they all started laughing and pounding the table. they thought it was hilarious.
i liked seeing this other side of them. i knew i wasn't a tourist. i wasn't seeing the big smile and arms wide open. i was witnessing family talk around the kitchen table, and i decided to be the perfect daughter.
"well, when he comes i will be nice to him. what room is he sleeping in?"
they all pointed at the door in the corner.
"ohhhhhhh, you are really mean!" i couldn't hold back laughing. it was the only room in the house completely inundated with mosquitoes. if you walk in and look closely, little bloody carcasses are smashed up against the wall, after having buzzed in some body's ear a little too long. i wasn't sure who slept there now, different people walked out every other morning.
poor guy. from what i am imagining he is going to have an interesting first week.
i can hardly imagine the boys holding back their hospitality. its as much a part of them as their toenails. or at least i think it is. i guess i'll just have to wait and find out...
"Secetry? Does the health clinic sell mosquito nets?"
"Yes Kessy, we do."
"Where would i go to buy wrapping paper?"
*************************************************************************************
Ballball!
i finally got invited to play in a game of football. soccer or "ballball", that is.
yesterday i was walking home from the clinic thinking about how i really haven't been taking advantage of all the fresh tropical fruits in the region, and that i should be eating more because before i know it i'll be gone, back in America, staring at the shriveled imported papayas in Albertons, thinking about now. while i was deep in this reflection i heard my name called a few times but decided to ignore it. the caller took the initiative and walked up to me. i instantly recognized him but i had no idea from where. i decided not to pretend and asked him "how do i know you?". he was peculiar looking, his eyebrows were permanently tilted into a defensive position and his voice sounded like he was on a whispering debate team, quietly arguing his case through conversation.
"you don't remember me?" he asked.
"no, i'm sorry i don't. where do i know you from?"
"we met at the park, a few weeks back. you said you would come to play ballball with me and my friends but i haven't seen you since."
"ohhhhhhhh ya, that's right. hello again!" i replied. "hheeeyyy, but i did come for you! you said to show up the next day at 3 and i was there. i even waited an extra hour but nobody ever came" i was acting very blase about the whole thing, but it was the 3rd time someone had promised a big game of soccer that never ended up happening. each time i got my hopes up, put on my cleats, listened to the locals laugh that a girl was planning on playing soccer, and then walked home from the "park" disappointed at being stood up once again.
"yes, okay, i recall that now." he said "well i can promise you today will be an excellent match and i am inviting you, will you come?" his palms were pressed together while he talked, and he leaned forward, lawyer-like.
"what time?"
"the match will begin in one hours time. is that okay with you?"
"yes, that's great. i'll go home and change and meet you at the field?"
"yes, i'll be seeing you."
"okay, byyyyyeeee!" and i ran off.
i went home and put on my gear. i walked over to Collin's mothers house to tell them to go to the market without me. it was Friday, market day, and we had planned on shopping together. the whole family (minus a few) was stretched out in the shade on the porch; sakola, collin's, NanaKwame, the mothers, and grandmothers. Cheif, my ghost roommate, was missing of course.
i greeted the eldest women first, working my way down through the ages until i reached collin's. he gave me his usual stretchy smile and asked if i was planning on going to play ballball.
"yes and i'm excited." i said.
sakola let out a little grunt.
"what?" i asked.
he pointed at my shorts and shook his head. i knew he thought they were too short, but it was all i had. i refused to play soccer in a dress.
"nye (it is bad)" he said. i liked how he always spoke Twi, its been my greatest teacher.
i shrugged my shoulders.
the grandmothers started swatting at the air telling sakola to be quiet, that my shorts were just fine and that i should go play and enjoy myself.
if the grandmothers didn't think my shorts were short than i had a new gauge for sakolas conservatism. sometimes he reminded me of a little old man, very certain about his likes and dislikes and enjoying days set in routine. i could tell he felt uncomfortable when i made him go out of his way, like following me to the clinic. i wasn't going to ask anyone to come to the field, they all looked too comfortable. so i gave them a little wave and disappeared.
when i got to the field i saw about 10 men my age and older sitting underneath some trees laughing. i walked over to them.
"excuse me. how are you all doing?"
'i am fine's' littered the air.
"i am glad to hear that. now, can you please tell me if this is the place the ballball game will be at, and if you are the people i will be playing with today?"
i have found that when i speak formally i am better understood than if i just blurt out a question in my comfortable voice. sometimes i long to just speak casually, but when i do no one understands. so instead, i usually just call home for that.
no one seemed to know i was going to play with them and it was apparent because they all were giving each other confused looks. i didn't see my friend from town anywhere so instead i just sat in the middle of the big group of men and waited for him to show up.
"did you come to watch?" one of the guys asked.
"no. i came to play."
"YOU. you play ballball?" he spoke in twi to all his friends and there was an eruption of commentary. my brain couldn't translate fast enough so it went on standby. i just sat there and stared.
somebody threw a ball over to me and i picked it up. ahhhh, a language i spoke!
we all ran out to the huge dirt lot, positioned at an unfair angle, full of rocks and a few shrubs and two goal posts made with tree branches. this was the village's beloved field which also happened to be one of the few places around where my cell phone receives reception.
we kicked the ball around and chatted for a bit. when they saw i at least had ball handling skills and could take a decent shot on goal they invited me to play.
"you, kayceewa, (some people have started to incorporate a "wa" at the end of my name?)you will play with us!" one of the team members shouted towards me.
i looked over and saw my friend had arrived. he was trotting in my direction.
"hello!" i yelled.
he didn't speak until he came closer.
then he said, seriously and diplomatically, "it seems you have found the place. that is good. the other team is preparing for the match, they are over there." he pointed. "i have noticed you met the team. good, good. we are the Muslims. today it is Muslims against the others. you will be on our side."
as long as it wasn't the end of the world, i was fine with that.
he continued "now, i have invited you as our guest of honor. do not shame me. you have told me you know how to play, and i am trusting you. there are two 45 minute half's. would you like to start the first, or play the second?"
"i'd like to start, if that's possible."
"yes, yes of course, it's possible. now depending on how you play you be invited to the 2nd half. so prove yourself well."
his style of speech kick started some anxiety, and i began to mentally prepare as if it was the world cup. i couldn't let them down, he trusted me! i had been playing soccer with men my entire life and this game seemed to be the pinnacle of my "career". it didn't seem like such a big deal until he had come over to me and given me that little speech.
my palms were sweaty and i had a knot in my stomach.
i was hoping we'd wear jerseys, so at least i could tell who was my opponent and who wasn't.
my friend beckoned to me "come!"
i ran over to the tree.
"now" he said "we are just waiting for the jerseys. someone has gone to fetch them from a nearby village. he will be back shortly. until then, you should prepare yourself."
i assumed he meant i should stretch, so i did, and before i knew it red shirts, black shorts, and matching striped socks were being pulled out of a huge black bag and passed around to be put on.
somebody dangled a shirt in front of me and i grabbed it.
YUCK! it was sopping wet. i threw it back and asked for another.
the second one wasn't any better, so i threw it back too.
the third selection was damp, so i held onto it as i took charge and looked for a dry shirt.
no such luck.
"did people just play in these?" i yelled out amidst the frenzy.
"they have come from game in other village." someone answered. "you need socks. take these." he strung a thin limp pair of dirty socks over my arm. i removed them promptly and thought hard and fast. how could i get around wearing these clothes? my army print shirt was the furthest thing from red, and i wanted to be easily recognized and included in the game, so i took a deep breath and pulled the shirt over my head. it stunk, like the crotch of a joggers shorts. and it was long-sleeved. i pulled the socks up over my shins and tried to not pay too much attention to how they were feeling, all clammy and sticky.
my friend walked over with some shorts in his hands. they were practically dripping.
"um i think i'll just wear the shorts that i came in." fluffing them up to make them look more attractive.
"but why? don't you wish to appear the same as the team?"
"uh, i think i'm okay. my shorts are blue and those are black, close enough."
"okay i understand." he said.
but he had no clue.
"what number do you play?" he asked me.
"i like to play center midfielder."
"what number is that?"
"i forget" i confessed. "i'm sorry we don't use numbers where i'm from. i think it is 7 or 8 or no 6?!"
he bent down in the dirt and drew a field, numbering each position for me. we figured it out, and he put me as left forward.
"are you okay with that?" he asked.
"yes."
"now remember to have the heart of a lion. these men will be rough. you hear?"
"yes." the knot came back.
the referee, dressed in his clothes from the farm, walked on the field and blew the whistle. people started running and passing and colliding. huge clouds of dust were left in their tracks and the crowd had grown from a few people watching, to hundreds. i ran around and told myself this was no different than the Saturday morning soccer i play with my men in Chico, except that i hadn't gotten the ball yet and here my name was being called out like i was a star, like i was Mia Hamm or something. and it was making me insecure.
just as negative self talk was beginning to take over i noticed a bright blue shirt at the top of the hill.
Collins had come!
He had walked the distance to the field (i'd never seen him venture that far) and was waving his crutch around enthusiastically. he was cheering me on!!!
the rest of the game went beautifully. the Muslims won and i proved myself well. i made some great passes, got tackled a few times by big gangley men and managed to walk away still in one piece.
after the game i gulped down some water, grabbed my cell phone and took advantage of the reception by calling my parents even though i had nothing exciting to say, and walked home with one of the players and NanaKwame. Collins had somehow disappeared during my phone call but i made a note to visit him the next day and thank him for coming.
"you really know how to play ballball, eiiiii!" my teammate said.
"thank you." i said "and you too, you are fast! like a cheetah!"
he thought that was funnier than it really was.
"you know, once the other team saw you were a threat, one of the men told his players to just cripple you. so they tried many times, but they couldn't. you are good. you are strong. i am surprised!"
"cripple me? isn't that a little harsh?"
"haha. no."
"so our team was the Muslims. what was the other teams name?" i had assumed they were the "Christians" but after hearing they wanted to take me out like that i didn't think that was very Jesus like, maybe a little Old Testamentish though. i should have donned a cross necklace, maybe some of them would have backed off but i had my muscles to protect me.
"i don't know their name." he said.
i looked over at NanaKwame, and he was strutting as usual. i decided to switch the subject and imitate his walk. he's confidant and wild and walks with a self-created bounce, i think for all the ladies.
apparently it works, because i always see new girls, usually in their mid-20's, claiming they just came over to get some water from our well. they bend and giggle and slap NanaKwame whenever he gets close to them. he, in return, lets out singular throaty chuckles and circles around them like a predator (pretending not to be) by simultaneously busying himself with things that don't need to be done.
i sit there and watch everything. if only they knew how much i record.
NanaKwame loved my impersonations, i could tell. he acted embarrassed, but i know he wanted more. so the entire way i bent my right leg dramatically, let it bounce up and swing around saying "yo, i'm NanaKwame. What's up?".
when we got home, i was physically tired, and needed to go to bed. that game of ballball was the first strenuous exercise i'd engaged in for months! the next day was Saturday and i was planning on doing nothing. i really needed to rest up for that. i laid down on my new bed, the floor, and fell fast asleep.
"Kessiewa?" NanaKwame poked his head by my window.
"Yes?"
"Kessiewa, good night!"
"Good night."
yesterday i was walking home from the clinic thinking about how i really haven't been taking advantage of all the fresh tropical fruits in the region, and that i should be eating more because before i know it i'll be gone, back in America, staring at the shriveled imported papayas in Albertons, thinking about now. while i was deep in this reflection i heard my name called a few times but decided to ignore it. the caller took the initiative and walked up to me. i instantly recognized him but i had no idea from where. i decided not to pretend and asked him "how do i know you?". he was peculiar looking, his eyebrows were permanently tilted into a defensive position and his voice sounded like he was on a whispering debate team, quietly arguing his case through conversation.
"you don't remember me?" he asked.
"no, i'm sorry i don't. where do i know you from?"
"we met at the park, a few weeks back. you said you would come to play ballball with me and my friends but i haven't seen you since."
"ohhhhhhhh ya, that's right. hello again!" i replied. "hheeeyyy, but i did come for you! you said to show up the next day at 3 and i was there. i even waited an extra hour but nobody ever came" i was acting very blase about the whole thing, but it was the 3rd time someone had promised a big game of soccer that never ended up happening. each time i got my hopes up, put on my cleats, listened to the locals laugh that a girl was planning on playing soccer, and then walked home from the "park" disappointed at being stood up once again.
"yes, okay, i recall that now." he said "well i can promise you today will be an excellent match and i am inviting you, will you come?" his palms were pressed together while he talked, and he leaned forward, lawyer-like.
"what time?"
"the match will begin in one hours time. is that okay with you?"
"yes, that's great. i'll go home and change and meet you at the field?"
"yes, i'll be seeing you."
"okay, byyyyyeeee!" and i ran off.
i went home and put on my gear. i walked over to Collin's mothers house to tell them to go to the market without me. it was Friday, market day, and we had planned on shopping together. the whole family (minus a few) was stretched out in the shade on the porch; sakola, collin's, NanaKwame, the mothers, and grandmothers. Cheif, my ghost roommate, was missing of course.
i greeted the eldest women first, working my way down through the ages until i reached collin's. he gave me his usual stretchy smile and asked if i was planning on going to play ballball.
"yes and i'm excited." i said.
sakola let out a little grunt.
"what?" i asked.
he pointed at my shorts and shook his head. i knew he thought they were too short, but it was all i had. i refused to play soccer in a dress.
"nye (it is bad)" he said. i liked how he always spoke Twi, its been my greatest teacher.
i shrugged my shoulders.
the grandmothers started swatting at the air telling sakola to be quiet, that my shorts were just fine and that i should go play and enjoy myself.
if the grandmothers didn't think my shorts were short than i had a new gauge for sakolas conservatism. sometimes he reminded me of a little old man, very certain about his likes and dislikes and enjoying days set in routine. i could tell he felt uncomfortable when i made him go out of his way, like following me to the clinic. i wasn't going to ask anyone to come to the field, they all looked too comfortable. so i gave them a little wave and disappeared.
when i got to the field i saw about 10 men my age and older sitting underneath some trees laughing. i walked over to them.
"excuse me. how are you all doing?"
'i am fine's' littered the air.
"i am glad to hear that. now, can you please tell me if this is the place the ballball game will be at, and if you are the people i will be playing with today?"
i have found that when i speak formally i am better understood than if i just blurt out a question in my comfortable voice. sometimes i long to just speak casually, but when i do no one understands. so instead, i usually just call home for that.
no one seemed to know i was going to play with them and it was apparent because they all were giving each other confused looks. i didn't see my friend from town anywhere so instead i just sat in the middle of the big group of men and waited for him to show up.
"did you come to watch?" one of the guys asked.
"no. i came to play."
"YOU. you play ballball?" he spoke in twi to all his friends and there was an eruption of commentary. my brain couldn't translate fast enough so it went on standby. i just sat there and stared.
somebody threw a ball over to me and i picked it up. ahhhh, a language i spoke!
we all ran out to the huge dirt lot, positioned at an unfair angle, full of rocks and a few shrubs and two goal posts made with tree branches. this was the village's beloved field which also happened to be one of the few places around where my cell phone receives reception.
we kicked the ball around and chatted for a bit. when they saw i at least had ball handling skills and could take a decent shot on goal they invited me to play.
"you, kayceewa, (some people have started to incorporate a "wa" at the end of my name?)you will play with us!" one of the team members shouted towards me.
i looked over and saw my friend had arrived. he was trotting in my direction.
"hello!" i yelled.
he didn't speak until he came closer.
then he said, seriously and diplomatically, "it seems you have found the place. that is good. the other team is preparing for the match, they are over there." he pointed. "i have noticed you met the team. good, good. we are the Muslims. today it is Muslims against the others. you will be on our side."
as long as it wasn't the end of the world, i was fine with that.
he continued "now, i have invited you as our guest of honor. do not shame me. you have told me you know how to play, and i am trusting you. there are two 45 minute half's. would you like to start the first, or play the second?"
"i'd like to start, if that's possible."
"yes, yes of course, it's possible. now depending on how you play you be invited to the 2nd half. so prove yourself well."
his style of speech kick started some anxiety, and i began to mentally prepare as if it was the world cup. i couldn't let them down, he trusted me! i had been playing soccer with men my entire life and this game seemed to be the pinnacle of my "career". it didn't seem like such a big deal until he had come over to me and given me that little speech.
my palms were sweaty and i had a knot in my stomach.
i was hoping we'd wear jerseys, so at least i could tell who was my opponent and who wasn't.
my friend beckoned to me "come!"
i ran over to the tree.
"now" he said "we are just waiting for the jerseys. someone has gone to fetch them from a nearby village. he will be back shortly. until then, you should prepare yourself."
i assumed he meant i should stretch, so i did, and before i knew it red shirts, black shorts, and matching striped socks were being pulled out of a huge black bag and passed around to be put on.
somebody dangled a shirt in front of me and i grabbed it.
YUCK! it was sopping wet. i threw it back and asked for another.
the second one wasn't any better, so i threw it back too.
the third selection was damp, so i held onto it as i took charge and looked for a dry shirt.
no such luck.
"did people just play in these?" i yelled out amidst the frenzy.
"they have come from game in other village." someone answered. "you need socks. take these." he strung a thin limp pair of dirty socks over my arm. i removed them promptly and thought hard and fast. how could i get around wearing these clothes? my army print shirt was the furthest thing from red, and i wanted to be easily recognized and included in the game, so i took a deep breath and pulled the shirt over my head. it stunk, like the crotch of a joggers shorts. and it was long-sleeved. i pulled the socks up over my shins and tried to not pay too much attention to how they were feeling, all clammy and sticky.
my friend walked over with some shorts in his hands. they were practically dripping.
"um i think i'll just wear the shorts that i came in." fluffing them up to make them look more attractive.
"but why? don't you wish to appear the same as the team?"
"uh, i think i'm okay. my shorts are blue and those are black, close enough."
"okay i understand." he said.
but he had no clue.
"what number do you play?" he asked me.
"i like to play center midfielder."
"what number is that?"
"i forget" i confessed. "i'm sorry we don't use numbers where i'm from. i think it is 7 or 8 or no 6?!"
he bent down in the dirt and drew a field, numbering each position for me. we figured it out, and he put me as left forward.
"are you okay with that?" he asked.
"yes."
"now remember to have the heart of a lion. these men will be rough. you hear?"
"yes." the knot came back.
the referee, dressed in his clothes from the farm, walked on the field and blew the whistle. people started running and passing and colliding. huge clouds of dust were left in their tracks and the crowd had grown from a few people watching, to hundreds. i ran around and told myself this was no different than the Saturday morning soccer i play with my men in Chico, except that i hadn't gotten the ball yet and here my name was being called out like i was a star, like i was Mia Hamm or something. and it was making me insecure.
just as negative self talk was beginning to take over i noticed a bright blue shirt at the top of the hill.
Collins had come!
He had walked the distance to the field (i'd never seen him venture that far) and was waving his crutch around enthusiastically. he was cheering me on!!!
the rest of the game went beautifully. the Muslims won and i proved myself well. i made some great passes, got tackled a few times by big gangley men and managed to walk away still in one piece.
after the game i gulped down some water, grabbed my cell phone and took advantage of the reception by calling my parents even though i had nothing exciting to say, and walked home with one of the players and NanaKwame. Collins had somehow disappeared during my phone call but i made a note to visit him the next day and thank him for coming.
"you really know how to play ballball, eiiiii!" my teammate said.
"thank you." i said "and you too, you are fast! like a cheetah!"
he thought that was funnier than it really was.
"you know, once the other team saw you were a threat, one of the men told his players to just cripple you. so they tried many times, but they couldn't. you are good. you are strong. i am surprised!"
"cripple me? isn't that a little harsh?"
"haha. no."
"so our team was the Muslims. what was the other teams name?" i had assumed they were the "Christians" but after hearing they wanted to take me out like that i didn't think that was very Jesus like, maybe a little Old Testamentish though. i should have donned a cross necklace, maybe some of them would have backed off but i had my muscles to protect me.
"i don't know their name." he said.
i looked over at NanaKwame, and he was strutting as usual. i decided to switch the subject and imitate his walk. he's confidant and wild and walks with a self-created bounce, i think for all the ladies.
apparently it works, because i always see new girls, usually in their mid-20's, claiming they just came over to get some water from our well. they bend and giggle and slap NanaKwame whenever he gets close to them. he, in return, lets out singular throaty chuckles and circles around them like a predator (pretending not to be) by simultaneously busying himself with things that don't need to be done.
i sit there and watch everything. if only they knew how much i record.
NanaKwame loved my impersonations, i could tell. he acted embarrassed, but i know he wanted more. so the entire way i bent my right leg dramatically, let it bounce up and swing around saying "yo, i'm NanaKwame. What's up?".
when we got home, i was physically tired, and needed to go to bed. that game of ballball was the first strenuous exercise i'd engaged in for months! the next day was Saturday and i was planning on doing nothing. i really needed to rest up for that. i laid down on my new bed, the floor, and fell fast asleep.
"Kessiewa?" NanaKwame poked his head by my window.
"Yes?"
"Kessiewa, good night!"
"Good night."
Thursday, January 4, 2007
what did you get me for xmas?
i have returned to the village, and didn't realize how much the 1 week trip away refueled me and got me excited to come back. i missed the quiet purr of a village, no huge cars honking their horns and puffing out exhaust. no streets to sprint across or rivers of sewage to leap over, no white people avoiding eye contact from you as if you were ruining their unique African experience, no stores to go into...(okay maybe a store would be nice). the entire ride back i felt little rushes of excitement for things like sleeping in my own bed again *although that is a story in itself
i soon discovered, i would have been more thrilled to see people if each time they saw me the first thing out of their mouth wasn't
"where is my Xmas gift?" they pronounce the X too, and for some reason it never sits right with me. not because "it's crossing out the Christ", mostly because it sounds bad. immature or something. like a spoken text message. so yes, i returned to at least 15 people asking me why i hadn't got them a present. at first i felt guilty when i saw Efreeyeh walking through the village, dressed up in a hawaiian flowered ensemble, looking pretty. i let out a little scream when i saw her, as if she was my long lost high school buddy. i ran over and gave her a very strong handshake. then she said it.
"where is my Xmas gift?"
sakola walked over and started telling her i hadn't gotten him anything either, and then they continued to act like i had just done something so horrible, shaking their heads in disapproval.
i was confused, i couldn't tell if they were kidding or if i had really offended them and our newly found friendship was going to slip through the cracks because i failed to be considerate. i looked into sakolas eyes. then over at efreeyeh.
"at least you could have brought us back some bread!"
i tried to explain that bread as a gift would have been the last thing i'd thought to bring. we don't give bread to people in the u.s.. i instantly imagined it, stockings stuffed with rolls of sourdough. or knocking on my brother's door with a loaf of white wonder bread wrapped up. or maybe i'd splurge and get organic whole wheat. the image was ridiculous. i wanted them to see my point, but the fact was, i didn't have ANYTHING.
"a piece of toffee? rice?" they continued.
i started feeling really bad, so i told sakola we should keep walking to the clinic, i still had a lot of people to greet.
along the way i saw more folks, all of who didn't speak english and all of who i pretended not to hear what they were saying in twi. the ordeal was the equivalent of a half day of selling girl scout cookies door to door. it took that much time and that much energy.
then we got to the clinic. by this time i was exhausted by defending myself and was glad to see Watchman, he's Muslim.
Kiisssssssss! (he hisses my name)
"Watchman!"
"Oh Kissssssss, you are welcome. Happy New Year!!!"
everything was going smoothly and i thanked God for Muslims.
"Happy New Year Watchman!" i said. "How are things?"
Our conversation had reached saturation point. There were no more english words he could dredge up to use to communicate with me and i had to store up my energy talking with everyone else. I was about to say goodbye when he grabbed my shoulder and gave it a little shake, speaking the same words i had been hearing the past few interactions. i wanted to melt into the ground and dissappear. WHHHHHY?
i pretended to have no idea what he was asking me, so Sakola stepped in and instantly learned fluent English.
"He's asking why you did not bring him gift for Buronya?"
"Is he serious?" i really wanted to know.
"You- you bring him something."
was this an order? or was this a question?
i retorted "i bring him something? i bring him something? i did not bring him anything."
i looked over at Watchman and all of a sudden he looked really sad. I didn't like this look on him, he resembles an African version of Robin Williams, and when ever we meet the exchange is always lighthearted and free. Now the Robin Williams look was giving way to a more 'save the children'type face. His eyes got bigger and his mouth sagged.
Sakola said "Watchman says if you didn't bring him anything you can at least give him a Xmas bonus. For watching everything."
Oh, so now it was up to me to hand out bonuses??? It was his job to watch everything, i assumed that was why we all called him Watchman.
"He wants me to give him a bonus???" i asked.
They both agreed in unison by giving me very excited nods, and then Watchman pathetically put out his hands like he was begging.
i was starting to feel used. like the only reason people had been nice to me in december was because secretly they thought i was santa claus. maybe i should have rode back into the village with a bunch of goats guiding my sleigh and a huge sack of gifts, i could have just thrown them to any random person who yelled my name. Sakola was starting to translate some more, and i couldn't take it any longer. the frustration of cultural exchange, of not truly being able to understand what was going on, of not being able to communicate fully was taking its toll.
i turned my back to them both and walked away.i knew what i was doing. i was being incredibly rude. i was disrespecting an elder and ignoring my friends plea's to turn around and come back. he was yelling at me the entire time i walked away from the clinic and over the hill. my heart was pounding and i wanted to cry. i felt incredibly alone. instead i swallowed everything i was feeling and let it propell me through the cat calls.
i made it back home, saw the bird dangling from the pole for the first time in a week, and scoffed. it was deteriorating and it looked thin. i walked up the porch over to the front door only to find it was locked.
sakola had the keys.
damnit.
well i definately wasn't going back there to get them, and besides i was positive he was close to running after me. he'd be here soon, i was sure.
instead, i sat on the porch and watched the huge sun fall behind some distant trees. i tried to feel peaceful because of that, because afterall, i was in africa and i saw the sun set behind some typical african scenery. shouldn't that still the spirit?
it didn't, so instead i picked at my skin until it got dark. i was glad that i couldn't see the aftereffects of that, and mad that Sakola was taking so long.
i had noticed the porch was free of bird poop, and i had always admired what a smooth cool ground our porch had. i had been wanting to do yoga out here for weeks. the first time i saw the porch i had visions of tranquility. early morning rising, stretching and breathing, building strength, doing headstands to amaze all the locals.
i stretched out into downward dog.
yikes. i was tight.
i went from downward dog into a succession of poses, all of which were happening with the fluidity of an old tractor rumbling down the road. i didn't care though, it was easing my tension.
i was out on the porch for over an hour, making myself busy, when Sakola arrived with the keys and dinner. Apparently he didn't speak English anymore, but i was in a peaceful enough mood to explain in Twi that i can't give presents and money to every single person i have ever shook hands with.
He told me when i walked away his heart felt bad and he was only joking. He said "me di agoro". That means 'i was kidding.' Right when he said the phrase i recognized it, only because i had made up flash cards 2 weeks prior and i remember writing it, although i still had no idea what it meant.
'wo di agoro?' i asked.
'yes, me di agoro!'
i racked my brain, trying to remember exactly what that meant.
"wait here, i'm coming back!"
i ran to my room and flipped through my flashcards. it was the last one.
di agoro, to joke.
so all these people had been joking with me?
i went back outside. i told him i was glad that he was only joking, but that i personally didn't think it was funny. please don't tell me those jokes anymore. not this year, not next, never again.
he said okay, and we washed our hands and dipped them into the same bowl to eat some fufuo.
i soon discovered, i would have been more thrilled to see people if each time they saw me the first thing out of their mouth wasn't
"where is my Xmas gift?" they pronounce the X too, and for some reason it never sits right with me. not because "it's crossing out the Christ", mostly because it sounds bad. immature or something. like a spoken text message. so yes, i returned to at least 15 people asking me why i hadn't got them a present. at first i felt guilty when i saw Efreeyeh walking through the village, dressed up in a hawaiian flowered ensemble, looking pretty. i let out a little scream when i saw her, as if she was my long lost high school buddy. i ran over and gave her a very strong handshake. then she said it.
"where is my Xmas gift?"
sakola walked over and started telling her i hadn't gotten him anything either, and then they continued to act like i had just done something so horrible, shaking their heads in disapproval.
i was confused, i couldn't tell if they were kidding or if i had really offended them and our newly found friendship was going to slip through the cracks because i failed to be considerate. i looked into sakolas eyes. then over at efreeyeh.
"at least you could have brought us back some bread!"
i tried to explain that bread as a gift would have been the last thing i'd thought to bring. we don't give bread to people in the u.s.. i instantly imagined it, stockings stuffed with rolls of sourdough. or knocking on my brother's door with a loaf of white wonder bread wrapped up. or maybe i'd splurge and get organic whole wheat. the image was ridiculous. i wanted them to see my point, but the fact was, i didn't have ANYTHING.
"a piece of toffee? rice?" they continued.
i started feeling really bad, so i told sakola we should keep walking to the clinic, i still had a lot of people to greet.
along the way i saw more folks, all of who didn't speak english and all of who i pretended not to hear what they were saying in twi. the ordeal was the equivalent of a half day of selling girl scout cookies door to door. it took that much time and that much energy.
then we got to the clinic. by this time i was exhausted by defending myself and was glad to see Watchman, he's Muslim.
Kiisssssssss! (he hisses my name)
"Watchman!"
"Oh Kissssssss, you are welcome. Happy New Year!!!"
everything was going smoothly and i thanked God for Muslims.
"Happy New Year Watchman!" i said. "How are things?"
Our conversation had reached saturation point. There were no more english words he could dredge up to use to communicate with me and i had to store up my energy talking with everyone else. I was about to say goodbye when he grabbed my shoulder and gave it a little shake, speaking the same words i had been hearing the past few interactions. i wanted to melt into the ground and dissappear. WHHHHHY?
i pretended to have no idea what he was asking me, so Sakola stepped in and instantly learned fluent English.
"He's asking why you did not bring him gift for Buronya?"
"Is he serious?" i really wanted to know.
"You- you bring him something."
was this an order? or was this a question?
i retorted "i bring him something? i bring him something? i did not bring him anything."
i looked over at Watchman and all of a sudden he looked really sad. I didn't like this look on him, he resembles an African version of Robin Williams, and when ever we meet the exchange is always lighthearted and free. Now the Robin Williams look was giving way to a more 'save the children'type face. His eyes got bigger and his mouth sagged.
Sakola said "Watchman says if you didn't bring him anything you can at least give him a Xmas bonus. For watching everything."
Oh, so now it was up to me to hand out bonuses??? It was his job to watch everything, i assumed that was why we all called him Watchman.
"He wants me to give him a bonus???" i asked.
They both agreed in unison by giving me very excited nods, and then Watchman pathetically put out his hands like he was begging.
i was starting to feel used. like the only reason people had been nice to me in december was because secretly they thought i was santa claus. maybe i should have rode back into the village with a bunch of goats guiding my sleigh and a huge sack of gifts, i could have just thrown them to any random person who yelled my name. Sakola was starting to translate some more, and i couldn't take it any longer. the frustration of cultural exchange, of not truly being able to understand what was going on, of not being able to communicate fully was taking its toll.
i turned my back to them both and walked away.i knew what i was doing. i was being incredibly rude. i was disrespecting an elder and ignoring my friends plea's to turn around and come back. he was yelling at me the entire time i walked away from the clinic and over the hill. my heart was pounding and i wanted to cry. i felt incredibly alone. instead i swallowed everything i was feeling and let it propell me through the cat calls.
i made it back home, saw the bird dangling from the pole for the first time in a week, and scoffed. it was deteriorating and it looked thin. i walked up the porch over to the front door only to find it was locked.
sakola had the keys.
damnit.
well i definately wasn't going back there to get them, and besides i was positive he was close to running after me. he'd be here soon, i was sure.
instead, i sat on the porch and watched the huge sun fall behind some distant trees. i tried to feel peaceful because of that, because afterall, i was in africa and i saw the sun set behind some typical african scenery. shouldn't that still the spirit?
it didn't, so instead i picked at my skin until it got dark. i was glad that i couldn't see the aftereffects of that, and mad that Sakola was taking so long.
i had noticed the porch was free of bird poop, and i had always admired what a smooth cool ground our porch had. i had been wanting to do yoga out here for weeks. the first time i saw the porch i had visions of tranquility. early morning rising, stretching and breathing, building strength, doing headstands to amaze all the locals.
i stretched out into downward dog.
yikes. i was tight.
i went from downward dog into a succession of poses, all of which were happening with the fluidity of an old tractor rumbling down the road. i didn't care though, it was easing my tension.
i was out on the porch for over an hour, making myself busy, when Sakola arrived with the keys and dinner. Apparently he didn't speak English anymore, but i was in a peaceful enough mood to explain in Twi that i can't give presents and money to every single person i have ever shook hands with.
He told me when i walked away his heart felt bad and he was only joking. He said "me di agoro". That means 'i was kidding.' Right when he said the phrase i recognized it, only because i had made up flash cards 2 weeks prior and i remember writing it, although i still had no idea what it meant.
'wo di agoro?' i asked.
'yes, me di agoro!'
i racked my brain, trying to remember exactly what that meant.
"wait here, i'm coming back!"
i ran to my room and flipped through my flashcards. it was the last one.
di agoro, to joke.
so all these people had been joking with me?
i went back outside. i told him i was glad that he was only joking, but that i personally didn't think it was funny. please don't tell me those jokes anymore. not this year, not next, never again.
he said okay, and we washed our hands and dipped them into the same bowl to eat some fufuo.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
lots of heads for one day *15*
"have you ever done a vaginal exam before?" the midwife asked me. her face was as nondescript as a turtles and she seemed to already have trusted me for some reason. i had only been in the hospital for a few hours, waiting with senam in the side room till a baby came. we talked and he told me about his childhood.
"um, once in the village clinic." i said.
"okay, well put on some gloves, you need to check this woman and see where she's at."
i was assuming she meant how far she had dilated, and i had no idea how to tell. but the only way to learn was to do it, so i did.
"what did you feel?" she asked me.
"i felt an opening? and some bumps?" i really didn't know what i felt, except that i had touched it.
"she is dilated to 4 cm and still has some time to go. lets leave her alone."
one day i might be speaking like that too, i thought. then i looked down at my glove. i had put it on wrong. my thumb was in the spot that the pinkie should have been in, fat man in a little coat. but the nurse said it was okay. when i took it off and threw it away i laughed at myself. granted the packaging was misleading, claiming that the glove i removed was supposed to go on the right hand, but was positioned poorly for that, resulting in requiring a lot of handling and possible contamination to fix it into the right spot. i wondered if they were some screw up variety that got shipped over to Africa as a donation.
"come sit in here" she patted a black leather chair in the midwives office.
i left senam to battle the hospital energy all alone.
"so where are you from? what is your name? how do you find Ho?" i got the questions i usually get, and answered them in the usual way, having to pronounce my name 5 times before anyone got it right.
"yes K.C." i said slowly.
"well, my name is Eunice." there wasn't one threatening bone in this woman. if i was going to have a baby i would have hoped for her to deliver me. although i hadn't seen her at work yet.
"come K.C., let me show you back here." she moved a huge curtain and behind it were 3 tables and a lot of medical equipment. i wasn't in the village health clinic anymore, with checkered curtains and roosters crowing outside the window. i was staring at shiny things plugged into walls and a woman dressed in rubber boots and scrubs.
she walked through everything, carefully explaining in a tour bus sort of way. we heard screaming coming from the other room and decided it'd be best to go check.
seconds later we were back in the labour ward with 2 women about to give birth. i stood at the periphery and watched. i had my arms crossed casually, like i was on summer break. i quickly decided it is ludicrous to stand in such a relaxed position (even if i wasn't doing anything) when just feet away a woman was exerting such energy. it was like yawning in the boxing ring.
i uncrossed my arms and stood more at an army stance. that felt better. a little more appropriate and ready for any possible situation. it gave me confidence to get a little closer.
"come here" Eunice said. "look closely. we have to puncture her membranes. they haven't ruptured yet. have you seen someone do this before?"
"yes." i said.
"this is why i wear rubber boots."
i looked down at my feet. Keens, the new hard core backpackers sandal. definitely not hospital material. i was about to be flooded, i feared, so i took a step back.
"but most times it goes straight into the bucket. if the person doing the work is experienced."
her hand did one quick jab and it all slid down, off the table and down the plastic cover into the bucket. i stepped closer.
the woman on the other table was resting as our lady let out one huge scream for all the world to hear (did you hear it?) and the baby emerged. another healthy boy. Eunice wrapped the child in a colorful African cloth and plopped the baby on her chest. she looked so tired, and she was. she barely acknowledged the presence of her effort.
i immediately thought of Ma.
"They will be too tired and they will drop their baby."
was it true?
i stepped closer to the woman, just in case it happened. i felt certain the baby wouldn't hit the floor with me there, i'm athletic.
Eunice took the baby from the mom and brought it over to a table with scale and a few other contraptions. the child still hadn't screamed and it was making me nervous.
"oh don't you worry, i think he's just tired. labor is work for the baby too you know! he'll come around." she stuck a tube down its throat and sucked out some liquid. the machine made such a loud rumble i felt bad for the child. from floating in a heavenly bliss to fluorescent lights and vibrating hospital equipment, it seemed unfair. unfair to an American.
a weak cry emerged, but not a lot more. she bundled him back up and then we both ran over to the other woman. the head of her baby was already poking out.
"Excuse me sister" Eunice said "can you grab that needle and do the injection for me?" She was delivering the baby.
I grabbed the needle she was talking about and stared at it. I could barely put on a glove correctly, i wasn't about to stab this lady with my lack of training.
"i'm sorry i can't do it."
"you can't?" she asked.
"no, i've never done an injection before."
she laughed and grabbed it from me, doing it herself while seconds later pulling the baby out.
Efreeyeh (at the village clinic) keeps trying to get me to insert the needles into the hands of our patients affected with malaria. She sets up the drip and gives me a look, like "today will be the day you will learn." i give her a look back that says 'not today, thanks.'
i'd prefer to go to schooling for that type of thing. maybe practice jabbing a mango before i do a real person. i'm sure just the sensation of a needle piercing through flesh is unsettling the first time and i'd like to learn first how to do it correctly. i don't trust Efreeyeh because her hands shake and she always has to do it twice. her patients never look comfortable and i always have to end up leaving the room.
the first time i saw her set a drip into somebody's hand i almost passed out.
i left the men's ward and had a serious talk with myself. if i couldn't watch a tiny needle enter a vein, how on earth was i going to watch a huge baby exit a vagina.
turns out i can.
the second baby that came was cuter. i hated to think that. both the women had done such great work, and both their children were bundled up together now, resting on the table, waiting to get their information recorded.
"this one is smaller" Eunice said. "maybe 2 kilograms"
i looked down at it's fingers. they were so small they could get stuck between my teeth. so tiny and wrinkled, and pumping with life.
i was glad that one was a boy and one was a girl. i feared a mix-up. but they did just get wrapped up in different cloths.
i was glad i didn't have to scrub a baby down. or i should say, i was glad that the babies didn't have to get scrubbed down. they seemed happier. maybe that was why neither one of them let out a gigantic scream. i had grown accustomed to the gigantic scream and had to assure myself they really were okay.
Eunice was busy delivering the placentas while i monitored the babies heartbeats. not because i was told to, just because they were so quiet i felt i should.
"Yes the white girl is around the corner." i heard a voice say. Then i saw Emma pop her head around and raise her eyebrows. She was surprised. Maybe by the babies, or the women recovering, or just the whole scene.
She walked back, stepping carefully and staring at everything. I realized i wasn't a complete newbie, and also why people laugh at me.
"Kacie, is Senam here?"
"no he left"
"well i brought you two some soup and goat. but the fufuo has run out and you should eat the soup before it gets cold, because it won't be nice then."
"okay, thanks."
we stayed together in the room for a few short minutes, marveling over the children and this world i was slowly becoming a part of. then i washed my hands a few times and went outside to eat.
"where did Senam go?" she asked accusingly.
"he went to Freedom Hotel to meet up with some friends."
"to meet up with who?"
"i don't know."
"when did he leave?"
"about an hour ago but he said he'd be back shortly. you should just wait here."
"no i'm going." and she got up and walked away.
i opened the plastic tupperware and looked at the soup, with the goat chunks bobbing around at the surface. it looked delicious so i headed straight for a hunk of meat. the small thing that i thought was a hunk turned out to be more like an iceberg. i pulled it out and didn't recognize it at first. what part was this? i had seen most parts of a goat floating in my bowl at one time or another, but this part i realized, was actually smiling at me. the teeth were there, all jagged and stained and what i had my fingers in were the nostrils.
was this some type of sick joke?
no fufuo with my soup and a muzzle of a goat.
i couldn't stare at it too long, i was feeling upset. i dropped it back into the bowl and sealed up my meal.
no thanks. i'd save the goat face for senam. even if i did want to eat it i wouldnt know how. pick off the teeth and swallow them whole? and besides i thought i was quite brave to even attempt the tomato soup after having witnessed the red tides in the other room.
the night continued with one more birth, and me having seen my first episiotomy.
senam and emma came back and noticed the soup sitting untouched.
"i saved it for you, i knew you'd be hungry." i wanted to see how he was going to respond to the contents.
"oh thanks kace."
he opened it up and all the oil had conglomerated onto the edges of the bowl. it looked disgusting. then senam fished the head out and started laughing. "eiihh! EMMA!"
Emma couldn't hold back and let loose her own round of laughs. she said we had called after her family had already eaten, and that was the only part that was left. that the fufuo had finished also.
"Eiih! Emmmmaaaa."
i chimed in, chuckled, and told them "you Africans really eat everything." Senam and i have a running joke every time we sit down to eat. he observes at how i pick at my food, and choose what will enter and what won't. i laugh at how he crunches down on chicken bones and chews them to bits. we constantly ask each other 'will you eat this?'. i mostly push chunks of fat, or layers of skin, bones, and intestines his way. and he enjoys it. but a goat head?
"senam, are you going to eat that goat head?" i really wasn't sure one way or the other.
"ummm..." he looked at it closely. "it still has the teeth, and the tongue and everything... i don't think so."
the day had been full and i was ready to go home and sleep.
we left home, carrying the goat head, which is now in the refrigerator waiting for who knows what?
"um, once in the village clinic." i said.
"okay, well put on some gloves, you need to check this woman and see where she's at."
i was assuming she meant how far she had dilated, and i had no idea how to tell. but the only way to learn was to do it, so i did.
"what did you feel?" she asked me.
"i felt an opening? and some bumps?" i really didn't know what i felt, except that i had touched it.
"she is dilated to 4 cm and still has some time to go. lets leave her alone."
one day i might be speaking like that too, i thought. then i looked down at my glove. i had put it on wrong. my thumb was in the spot that the pinkie should have been in, fat man in a little coat. but the nurse said it was okay. when i took it off and threw it away i laughed at myself. granted the packaging was misleading, claiming that the glove i removed was supposed to go on the right hand, but was positioned poorly for that, resulting in requiring a lot of handling and possible contamination to fix it into the right spot. i wondered if they were some screw up variety that got shipped over to Africa as a donation.
"come sit in here" she patted a black leather chair in the midwives office.
i left senam to battle the hospital energy all alone.
"so where are you from? what is your name? how do you find Ho?" i got the questions i usually get, and answered them in the usual way, having to pronounce my name 5 times before anyone got it right.
"yes K.C." i said slowly.
"well, my name is Eunice." there wasn't one threatening bone in this woman. if i was going to have a baby i would have hoped for her to deliver me. although i hadn't seen her at work yet.
"come K.C., let me show you back here." she moved a huge curtain and behind it were 3 tables and a lot of medical equipment. i wasn't in the village health clinic anymore, with checkered curtains and roosters crowing outside the window. i was staring at shiny things plugged into walls and a woman dressed in rubber boots and scrubs.
she walked through everything, carefully explaining in a tour bus sort of way. we heard screaming coming from the other room and decided it'd be best to go check.
seconds later we were back in the labour ward with 2 women about to give birth. i stood at the periphery and watched. i had my arms crossed casually, like i was on summer break. i quickly decided it is ludicrous to stand in such a relaxed position (even if i wasn't doing anything) when just feet away a woman was exerting such energy. it was like yawning in the boxing ring.
i uncrossed my arms and stood more at an army stance. that felt better. a little more appropriate and ready for any possible situation. it gave me confidence to get a little closer.
"come here" Eunice said. "look closely. we have to puncture her membranes. they haven't ruptured yet. have you seen someone do this before?"
"yes." i said.
"this is why i wear rubber boots."
i looked down at my feet. Keens, the new hard core backpackers sandal. definitely not hospital material. i was about to be flooded, i feared, so i took a step back.
"but most times it goes straight into the bucket. if the person doing the work is experienced."
her hand did one quick jab and it all slid down, off the table and down the plastic cover into the bucket. i stepped closer.
the woman on the other table was resting as our lady let out one huge scream for all the world to hear (did you hear it?) and the baby emerged. another healthy boy. Eunice wrapped the child in a colorful African cloth and plopped the baby on her chest. she looked so tired, and she was. she barely acknowledged the presence of her effort.
i immediately thought of Ma.
"They will be too tired and they will drop their baby."
was it true?
i stepped closer to the woman, just in case it happened. i felt certain the baby wouldn't hit the floor with me there, i'm athletic.
Eunice took the baby from the mom and brought it over to a table with scale and a few other contraptions. the child still hadn't screamed and it was making me nervous.
"oh don't you worry, i think he's just tired. labor is work for the baby too you know! he'll come around." she stuck a tube down its throat and sucked out some liquid. the machine made such a loud rumble i felt bad for the child. from floating in a heavenly bliss to fluorescent lights and vibrating hospital equipment, it seemed unfair. unfair to an American.
a weak cry emerged, but not a lot more. she bundled him back up and then we both ran over to the other woman. the head of her baby was already poking out.
"Excuse me sister" Eunice said "can you grab that needle and do the injection for me?" She was delivering the baby.
I grabbed the needle she was talking about and stared at it. I could barely put on a glove correctly, i wasn't about to stab this lady with my lack of training.
"i'm sorry i can't do it."
"you can't?" she asked.
"no, i've never done an injection before."
she laughed and grabbed it from me, doing it herself while seconds later pulling the baby out.
Efreeyeh (at the village clinic) keeps trying to get me to insert the needles into the hands of our patients affected with malaria. She sets up the drip and gives me a look, like "today will be the day you will learn." i give her a look back that says 'not today, thanks.'
i'd prefer to go to schooling for that type of thing. maybe practice jabbing a mango before i do a real person. i'm sure just the sensation of a needle piercing through flesh is unsettling the first time and i'd like to learn first how to do it correctly. i don't trust Efreeyeh because her hands shake and she always has to do it twice. her patients never look comfortable and i always have to end up leaving the room.
the first time i saw her set a drip into somebody's hand i almost passed out.
i left the men's ward and had a serious talk with myself. if i couldn't watch a tiny needle enter a vein, how on earth was i going to watch a huge baby exit a vagina.
turns out i can.
the second baby that came was cuter. i hated to think that. both the women had done such great work, and both their children were bundled up together now, resting on the table, waiting to get their information recorded.
"this one is smaller" Eunice said. "maybe 2 kilograms"
i looked down at it's fingers. they were so small they could get stuck between my teeth. so tiny and wrinkled, and pumping with life.
i was glad that one was a boy and one was a girl. i feared a mix-up. but they did just get wrapped up in different cloths.
i was glad i didn't have to scrub a baby down. or i should say, i was glad that the babies didn't have to get scrubbed down. they seemed happier. maybe that was why neither one of them let out a gigantic scream. i had grown accustomed to the gigantic scream and had to assure myself they really were okay.
Eunice was busy delivering the placentas while i monitored the babies heartbeats. not because i was told to, just because they were so quiet i felt i should.
"Yes the white girl is around the corner." i heard a voice say. Then i saw Emma pop her head around and raise her eyebrows. She was surprised. Maybe by the babies, or the women recovering, or just the whole scene.
She walked back, stepping carefully and staring at everything. I realized i wasn't a complete newbie, and also why people laugh at me.
"Kacie, is Senam here?"
"no he left"
"well i brought you two some soup and goat. but the fufuo has run out and you should eat the soup before it gets cold, because it won't be nice then."
"okay, thanks."
we stayed together in the room for a few short minutes, marveling over the children and this world i was slowly becoming a part of. then i washed my hands a few times and went outside to eat.
"where did Senam go?" she asked accusingly.
"he went to Freedom Hotel to meet up with some friends."
"to meet up with who?"
"i don't know."
"when did he leave?"
"about an hour ago but he said he'd be back shortly. you should just wait here."
"no i'm going." and she got up and walked away.
i opened the plastic tupperware and looked at the soup, with the goat chunks bobbing around at the surface. it looked delicious so i headed straight for a hunk of meat. the small thing that i thought was a hunk turned out to be more like an iceberg. i pulled it out and didn't recognize it at first. what part was this? i had seen most parts of a goat floating in my bowl at one time or another, but this part i realized, was actually smiling at me. the teeth were there, all jagged and stained and what i had my fingers in were the nostrils.
was this some type of sick joke?
no fufuo with my soup and a muzzle of a goat.
i couldn't stare at it too long, i was feeling upset. i dropped it back into the bowl and sealed up my meal.
no thanks. i'd save the goat face for senam. even if i did want to eat it i wouldnt know how. pick off the teeth and swallow them whole? and besides i thought i was quite brave to even attempt the tomato soup after having witnessed the red tides in the other room.
the night continued with one more birth, and me having seen my first episiotomy.
senam and emma came back and noticed the soup sitting untouched.
"i saved it for you, i knew you'd be hungry." i wanted to see how he was going to respond to the contents.
"oh thanks kace."
he opened it up and all the oil had conglomerated onto the edges of the bowl. it looked disgusting. then senam fished the head out and started laughing. "eiihh! EMMA!"
Emma couldn't hold back and let loose her own round of laughs. she said we had called after her family had already eaten, and that was the only part that was left. that the fufuo had finished also.
"Eiih! Emmmmaaaa."
i chimed in, chuckled, and told them "you Africans really eat everything." Senam and i have a running joke every time we sit down to eat. he observes at how i pick at my food, and choose what will enter and what won't. i laugh at how he crunches down on chicken bones and chews them to bits. we constantly ask each other 'will you eat this?'. i mostly push chunks of fat, or layers of skin, bones, and intestines his way. and he enjoys it. but a goat head?
"senam, are you going to eat that goat head?" i really wasn't sure one way or the other.
"ummm..." he looked at it closely. "it still has the teeth, and the tongue and everything... i don't think so."
the day had been full and i was ready to go home and sleep.
we left home, carrying the goat head, which is now in the refrigerator waiting for who knows what?
a really happy new year *14*
Ernestine came for me.
or should i say, Ernestine waited all day for me while i sat in the Internet lab and wrote.
i was expecting Senam to call me and let me know when she arrived, but he had left and his phone wasn't working. i ended up going back to the house late, around 9 pm. Senam's father was wearing a shirt, therefore able to talk to me. i sat on the couch and told him where i had been, he couldn't believe i would spend that much time in front of a computer. it didn't once occur to him that he spends more than 1/2 the day in front of a television, but i didn't find it my place to point that out to him so instead i let out a passive little giggle and said "well, you know..."
"well any way" he said "my daughter called for you earlier. she wanted to bring you to the hospital, remember?"
of coarse i did.
"well, she is just next door if you'd like to go see her. maybe she can take you now."
Senam came home and we went over to her house. she was sleeping on the couch and we startled her out of it. she sat up, a little confused, but still cheerful.
"let me put my clothes on and lets go."
it was that simple. she knew why i was standing in her living room and she cut right to the chase.
when she came back in she let me know that she wanted to go to church that night, it was New Years Eve and all good Christians went to church, to give thanks to God for the year passed and pray for the year coming. I had already made up my mind that nobody was going to talk me into going. I was tired and could barely handle the thought of keeping up at a Ghanaian church. Its hard enough on a Sunday morning i could not imagine what New Years Eve would be like. i didn't think i'd miss out on too much considering there was an outdoor sanctuary just feet away from my bedroom window. they had microphones and huge speakers and had been lulling me to sleep that entire week, in tongues.
Ernestine didn't offer an invitation to come with her, and i was thankful. Senam was more exhausted than i was but his girlfriend threatened him if he decided to stay home and sleep. i hinted at how amazing it was going to feel to be able to go to bed instead of church just to see if a break-up could occur. i knew he no longer wanted to be with her, and what better day to break up than the last day of the year. he could start free and fresh for 2007.
so the 3 of us walked in the dark to the hospital, which wasn't far at all. i had just taken my malaria medication, which is supposed to be mixed with a stomach full of food. i had scarfed a measly banana and was suffering the effects. i was dizzy and nauseous and keeping it a secret, except that i almost fell over. i just grabbed senam's arm and kept on walking hoping the hospital was well lit and then wondering if it was the best night to be in a labour ward. i'm sure a dizzy inexperienced white chick was all they needed.
Ernestine had worked in this hospital before and immediately i could tell she was on old grounds. she said hello to people and had us sit in a sterile empty room. senam had a funny expression on his face. he curled up the corners of his lips and looked at me.
"hmmmmmm" he hummed his voice and shook his body all around "i really don't like hospitals. they make me feel..."
i understood what he was saying. it is a common dislike. but i wasn't feeling that at all, 2 rooms away i knew what was happening and i wanted to be a part of it.
we sat and waited for a long time, and finally the head midwife came into the room and greeted us. ernestine the liaison smoothed out why i was there and what my purpose would be.
"well you just missed a lot. earlier today we had 4 cases, but now, nothing."
she looked tired, understandably.
"you should just come back tomorrow, i think. maybe you can give us your number and we will call you when a case comes in, then you can come fast and witness."
that sounded okay. a small part of me wanted to explain that i didn't just want to run in at the last minutes and see a baby be born. i wanted to experience it all, from start to finish. i wanted to bond with the mother. but deeper inside i realized now was not the time for that. i don't speak ewe and these women don't know me. the environment was nice, but no birthing mother was going to go out of her way to make me more a part of her experience, and since i didn't know the facilities i couldn't go out of my way either. i was forced to strictly observe.
the last thing i'd ever want to do is objectify the sacredness of birth. i've found myself battling against that here and wondering if i am too affected by my own culture, too politically correct, too sensitive, too relational and empathetic. i don't think i would ever say "push or your baby will die" but i have a hard time even feeling okay watching a woman birth if i don't know her name and she doesn't know mine. no one here thinks it's of any consequence. so what is the big deal, they wonder.
we all agreed tonite was not the best night, being new years eve and all and my big plans to sleep. January 1st 2007 would be a better day to come back.
Ernestine parted ways and walked to church while senam and i took the short route back home. i could tell he was set on going as if he had no other choice. Christians go to church on new years eve. it was deep in his blood and he was fighting sleep to make it happen.
"what time does church start?" i asked.
"8:00 and goes till 12:01 exactly." he said.
i had a hard time imagining Ghanaians being so time oriented and ending worship on the minute after.
"12:01?" i laughed.
"well, 12:01 for me, and then i'm coming back and going out dancing."
"you are going out dancing tonite? after church?" i smiled.
"yeah! i know, i know. it seems a little... whats the word? conflicting. yeah, conflicting."
it didn't in my mind. God likes dancing, i'm sure. does God like drunkenness and all that comes with it? i don't think so. but knowing senam i was sure those weren't the driving factors, i knew he just wanted to dance.
i was noticing my body was feeling better again and i was regaining energy. i was catching my second wind for the night.
"i kind of want to come to church with you now." not sure if i should fully commit.
"okay, that'd be great." he said.
"but i need to change first, put on a skirt or something."
i was wearing trousers and weeks prior Sakola had already let me know that was unacceptable church attire, even if they were flowy loose fitting light blue linen pants that made me feel like i was living in the Hamptons. i fought with him like i was a school girl trying to get away with an outfit her parents disapproved of. i even cried "but why?". Sakola held my hand and walked me to my wardrobe, then pulled out a few skirts, patted my arm, handed them to me, and walked out of my room.
"yeah, that would be a good idea." senam said "i'll just wait here."
we took a taxi across town and up a hill, winding through a few streets before we got to the building. it was the size of a primary school cafeteria and just as full. the mood was ripe with excitement, people were gathered expecting something big, like 4th of July fireworks. i could feel it.
i looked up above and saw the misshapen moon. for a second i wished it was full, then the night would seem perfect. but the sky was big and the moon was there and i was in Africa. i felt great.
i felt content.
there was no room in the church (it also had no walls) and outside people were crowded around the perimeter sitting in chairs and on benches. kids were sprawled lengthwise sleeping due to sheer exhaustion. young boys were gathered in small groups, hunched over playing games in the corners. mothers were 'amen'ing and raising their hands to heaven. some people were falling asleep.
we just stood there not having any where to sit. we were late, about 3 hours late. but no one seemed to care. i walked over to a stack of cement blocks, dusted them off and sat down. a middle aged man ran over to me and pulled me off. there was no way he was going to see a guest sit herself on an old stack of building materials. he cared!
"please madame, let me get you a chair."
"it's okay" i said "i can sit here. i am with my friends and there aren't enough chairs for us all."
a little tricky i admit, but it worked.
"oh no problem, we will find some chairs."
and he did. and then, we were all sitting.
the sermon didn't seem to progress much. the pastor kept saying the same phrase over and over getting just a little bit louder each time. we had been there for 20 minutes and i was growing bored, not to mention my butt was already falling asleep. people kept taking notes and i couldn't figure out why. what was so profound that i had missed?
i decided i must be missing something, so i listened harder.
i noticed how colorful everything was, there were rainbow colored balloons tied to each ceiling fan and they were whipping around in a pre-celebratory frenzy. i wondered if everyone was going to jump up and pop them when the clock struck midnight. or if there would be a countdown and lots of banging on kitchen supplies.
i remembered being young and going to my best friend Valerie's house every New Years. She's 1 of 5 and it always seemed that each sibling had a handful of friends over at once. Holidays were no different, they had the 'open door come anytime we can always order a pizza' type household. i loved it.
New Years we would fight back our sleep and wait for the ball to drop, then run around the house smashing into each other and hitting our pots and pans as loudly as possible, we'd scream and shake and after it was all over drop down from sheer exhaustion.
did people do that here, in the land of faulty watches and frozen clocks?
The pastor yelled enthusiastically for everyone to GET UP! people had grown into their chairs and struggled to free themselves.
"Now repeat after me!" he ordered. "Thank you God for the many blessings you bestowed upon us this past year." i could understand what he was saying, his accent was borderline thick. if i didn't try to listen too carefully it made it a lot easier. the words flowed into my ears.
we repeated "Thank you God for the many blessings you bestowed upon us this past year."
I'm always a little reluctant repeating things in church. it makes me feel funny. i chose right then to get over it.
"We pray that the year 2007" (he said 2007, two taaaaw-sind siven), "be filled with your g-dace and peace and understandeeng"
our turn.
"now" he looked out at us like he was a work-out master and we were just about to begin our routine. little did i know that was exactly what was about to happen, a true physical and spiritual workout was about to take place. the bodies were going to explode like a packet of confetti that suddenly grew arms and legs.
"God, we understand that with thoughts we reap actions, and with actions we reap habits, and with habits" he held his finger in the air and waved it around "we reap cha-ra-ca-ture!!!!!!!" then he got a little quieter and more serious and said "and with char-ra-ca-ture we reap our DESTINY."
we didn't repeat that. we just stared.
"now, God, we pray, we prrrrrrrraaayy our DESTINY reflects your good will and that you will guide us in the year two-taw-sind-siven! we thank you for your goodness and all the gifts you send to us every day! we pull these in!"
people started reaching their arms out and pulling them towards themselves. i looked at senam and asked 'what are they doing?'
"pulling in our blessings!" he said with an enormous grin on his face, his hands darting out in all directions.
"WE PULL THEM IN FROM THE MOON!" pastor yelled "AND FROM THE STARS!"
"we pull them in from the moon and from the stars!" we screamed back.
"WE PULL THEM IN FROM THE NORTH AND FROM THE SOUTH"
"we pull them in from the north and from the south!"
"FROM THE EAST AND THE WEST!"
arms were shooting over and grabbing in my space, people were letting loose and snatching at the air...
"NOW WE PUT ON OUR BOOTS, MADE OF IRON AND MADE OF BRASS" he bent over and slipped into his imaginary shoes "AND WE WALK ALL OVER ANY FORM OF EVIL THAT TRIES TO BLOCK OUR WAY! WE STOMP IT OUT!!!!!!!! WE STOMP IT OUT!!!"
everyone started walking and stomping, reciting in unison exactly what was just said. we all ran around stirring up mini clouds of dust, feeling powerful and inspired. it looked like hundreds of people were putting out mini-fires, and we were, i suppose.
"NOW WE GO TO THE EARTH AND WE PULL UP THE GOLD GOD HAS IN STORE FOR US FOR THE YEAR 2007!"
everyone bent over and started reaching their fingers low and long, some aggressively some delicately collecting their future promises.
this went on for a long time, enough for me to have seriously laughed hard in sheer delight at least 3 times.
i had really gone wild, taking this as my chance to creatively express everything i hadn't been able to voice to God, and doing it with the devotion of an actress on Broadway. i touched the moon, i saw the gold, my feet hurt from my new shoes. i never wanted it to stop.
i noticed a woman walking towards me, wearing the same purple color Ernestine had been in the other day, but this woman was HUGE! i looked at Senam who was bent over reaping his reward. i decided not to say anything, that she was the 3rd largest person i'd ever seen face to face.
but senam looked up just as she walked by. he leaned over to her and asked her something over all the commotion. she nodded, smiled, and gave him a big handshake.
he looked back over to me and said "its the lady from last night!"
i was happy to see her, happy to be celebrating with her. i felt close to her after having spent some time writing about her. she was now a part of my life so i yelled a hello over in towards that direction and she yelled one back.
"NOW GOD WILL COME TONITE AND RESTORE YOUR BODY FOR THE YEAR 2007! HE WILL GIVE YOU HEALTH AND WELLNESS AND TAKE AWAY EVERY BAD THING THAT IS INSIDE!!!!!!!!! HE WILL TAKE IT FROM YOU, FROM YOUR CHILDREN, FROM YOUR FAMILY, HE WILL DESTROY IT. BE GLAD AND KNOW!!!!!!!!!! I SAID, BE GLAD AND KNOW!"
then people started walking around like proud chickens, clucking and bowing to each other in their newly restored bodies. no one was still.
this continued for a good amount of time until we finally wished our neighbors a happy new year, instructed them to be wise with their time and keep prosperous thoughts, and then we spent the last 5 minutes of 2006 individually and simultaneously praying out loud about anything our hearts desired. everyone was spilling their souls.
the woman next to me was crying, out of happiness i think.
i think we prayed past the first 10 minutes of 2007, or at least that's how it felt. i had run out of things to say to God, and didn't want to stand there repeating myself, so i just observed.
The band broke through the prayers and clusters of singers on the small stage took over. the room inside erupted into a really serious dance party, people with their hands in the air twirling their white handkerchiefs around bumping in to each other but not seeming to notice. i looked over at Emma (Senam's girlfriend) and she said she was going in. If she was, so was I. I braced myself for what was about to happen, but realized it was more the type of thing you had to dive head first into.
the second my feet touched the interior i was swept away by a train of people, bumping their booties against me, elbows flinging all around, and really potent waves of b.o.
"2007!" i screamed, not able to hear my own voice over everything. "YAYYYYY!" i jumped and jumped and wiggled and danced. people worked their way around and put their hands on my hips forcing them to move the way they thought they should.
"silly people" i thought "i'll never be able to dance like them, even with their help." but it didn't matter, i just kept moving and yelling and never wanting it to stop.
it did though, eventually, after a very long time and my body drenched in sweat. i had to remove my layers, run the risk of exposing myself to the dreaded mosquito, and go outside to breathe fresh air. Senam asked me if i was enjoying myself. i think it was less of a question and more of a statement. i said yes, but that i was exhausted and was ready to leave at any time.
"What time is it?"
he checked his cell phone and replied "a little past 1".
"are we still going to the club?". i had to ask.
the question seemed so cheap after what we had just gone through.
"no. lets go home, besides tomorrow will be a big day at the hospital, don't you think?"
oh yah. the hospital, that place.
"sounds good to me." i said. and we left.
or should i say, Ernestine waited all day for me while i sat in the Internet lab and wrote.
i was expecting Senam to call me and let me know when she arrived, but he had left and his phone wasn't working. i ended up going back to the house late, around 9 pm. Senam's father was wearing a shirt, therefore able to talk to me. i sat on the couch and told him where i had been, he couldn't believe i would spend that much time in front of a computer. it didn't once occur to him that he spends more than 1/2 the day in front of a television, but i didn't find it my place to point that out to him so instead i let out a passive little giggle and said "well, you know..."
"well any way" he said "my daughter called for you earlier. she wanted to bring you to the hospital, remember?"
of coarse i did.
"well, she is just next door if you'd like to go see her. maybe she can take you now."
Senam came home and we went over to her house. she was sleeping on the couch and we startled her out of it. she sat up, a little confused, but still cheerful.
"let me put my clothes on and lets go."
it was that simple. she knew why i was standing in her living room and she cut right to the chase.
when she came back in she let me know that she wanted to go to church that night, it was New Years Eve and all good Christians went to church, to give thanks to God for the year passed and pray for the year coming. I had already made up my mind that nobody was going to talk me into going. I was tired and could barely handle the thought of keeping up at a Ghanaian church. Its hard enough on a Sunday morning i could not imagine what New Years Eve would be like. i didn't think i'd miss out on too much considering there was an outdoor sanctuary just feet away from my bedroom window. they had microphones and huge speakers and had been lulling me to sleep that entire week, in tongues.
Ernestine didn't offer an invitation to come with her, and i was thankful. Senam was more exhausted than i was but his girlfriend threatened him if he decided to stay home and sleep. i hinted at how amazing it was going to feel to be able to go to bed instead of church just to see if a break-up could occur. i knew he no longer wanted to be with her, and what better day to break up than the last day of the year. he could start free and fresh for 2007.
so the 3 of us walked in the dark to the hospital, which wasn't far at all. i had just taken my malaria medication, which is supposed to be mixed with a stomach full of food. i had scarfed a measly banana and was suffering the effects. i was dizzy and nauseous and keeping it a secret, except that i almost fell over. i just grabbed senam's arm and kept on walking hoping the hospital was well lit and then wondering if it was the best night to be in a labour ward. i'm sure a dizzy inexperienced white chick was all they needed.
Ernestine had worked in this hospital before and immediately i could tell she was on old grounds. she said hello to people and had us sit in a sterile empty room. senam had a funny expression on his face. he curled up the corners of his lips and looked at me.
"hmmmmmm" he hummed his voice and shook his body all around "i really don't like hospitals. they make me feel..."
i understood what he was saying. it is a common dislike. but i wasn't feeling that at all, 2 rooms away i knew what was happening and i wanted to be a part of it.
we sat and waited for a long time, and finally the head midwife came into the room and greeted us. ernestine the liaison smoothed out why i was there and what my purpose would be.
"well you just missed a lot. earlier today we had 4 cases, but now, nothing."
she looked tired, understandably.
"you should just come back tomorrow, i think. maybe you can give us your number and we will call you when a case comes in, then you can come fast and witness."
that sounded okay. a small part of me wanted to explain that i didn't just want to run in at the last minutes and see a baby be born. i wanted to experience it all, from start to finish. i wanted to bond with the mother. but deeper inside i realized now was not the time for that. i don't speak ewe and these women don't know me. the environment was nice, but no birthing mother was going to go out of her way to make me more a part of her experience, and since i didn't know the facilities i couldn't go out of my way either. i was forced to strictly observe.
the last thing i'd ever want to do is objectify the sacredness of birth. i've found myself battling against that here and wondering if i am too affected by my own culture, too politically correct, too sensitive, too relational and empathetic. i don't think i would ever say "push or your baby will die" but i have a hard time even feeling okay watching a woman birth if i don't know her name and she doesn't know mine. no one here thinks it's of any consequence. so what is the big deal, they wonder.
we all agreed tonite was not the best night, being new years eve and all and my big plans to sleep. January 1st 2007 would be a better day to come back.
Ernestine parted ways and walked to church while senam and i took the short route back home. i could tell he was set on going as if he had no other choice. Christians go to church on new years eve. it was deep in his blood and he was fighting sleep to make it happen.
"what time does church start?" i asked.
"8:00 and goes till 12:01 exactly." he said.
i had a hard time imagining Ghanaians being so time oriented and ending worship on the minute after.
"12:01?" i laughed.
"well, 12:01 for me, and then i'm coming back and going out dancing."
"you are going out dancing tonite? after church?" i smiled.
"yeah! i know, i know. it seems a little... whats the word? conflicting. yeah, conflicting."
it didn't in my mind. God likes dancing, i'm sure. does God like drunkenness and all that comes with it? i don't think so. but knowing senam i was sure those weren't the driving factors, i knew he just wanted to dance.
i was noticing my body was feeling better again and i was regaining energy. i was catching my second wind for the night.
"i kind of want to come to church with you now." not sure if i should fully commit.
"okay, that'd be great." he said.
"but i need to change first, put on a skirt or something."
i was wearing trousers and weeks prior Sakola had already let me know that was unacceptable church attire, even if they were flowy loose fitting light blue linen pants that made me feel like i was living in the Hamptons. i fought with him like i was a school girl trying to get away with an outfit her parents disapproved of. i even cried "but why?". Sakola held my hand and walked me to my wardrobe, then pulled out a few skirts, patted my arm, handed them to me, and walked out of my room.
"yeah, that would be a good idea." senam said "i'll just wait here."
we took a taxi across town and up a hill, winding through a few streets before we got to the building. it was the size of a primary school cafeteria and just as full. the mood was ripe with excitement, people were gathered expecting something big, like 4th of July fireworks. i could feel it.
i looked up above and saw the misshapen moon. for a second i wished it was full, then the night would seem perfect. but the sky was big and the moon was there and i was in Africa. i felt great.
i felt content.
there was no room in the church (it also had no walls) and outside people were crowded around the perimeter sitting in chairs and on benches. kids were sprawled lengthwise sleeping due to sheer exhaustion. young boys were gathered in small groups, hunched over playing games in the corners. mothers were 'amen'ing and raising their hands to heaven. some people were falling asleep.
we just stood there not having any where to sit. we were late, about 3 hours late. but no one seemed to care. i walked over to a stack of cement blocks, dusted them off and sat down. a middle aged man ran over to me and pulled me off. there was no way he was going to see a guest sit herself on an old stack of building materials. he cared!
"please madame, let me get you a chair."
"it's okay" i said "i can sit here. i am with my friends and there aren't enough chairs for us all."
a little tricky i admit, but it worked.
"oh no problem, we will find some chairs."
and he did. and then, we were all sitting.
the sermon didn't seem to progress much. the pastor kept saying the same phrase over and over getting just a little bit louder each time. we had been there for 20 minutes and i was growing bored, not to mention my butt was already falling asleep. people kept taking notes and i couldn't figure out why. what was so profound that i had missed?
i decided i must be missing something, so i listened harder.
i noticed how colorful everything was, there were rainbow colored balloons tied to each ceiling fan and they were whipping around in a pre-celebratory frenzy. i wondered if everyone was going to jump up and pop them when the clock struck midnight. or if there would be a countdown and lots of banging on kitchen supplies.
i remembered being young and going to my best friend Valerie's house every New Years. She's 1 of 5 and it always seemed that each sibling had a handful of friends over at once. Holidays were no different, they had the 'open door come anytime we can always order a pizza' type household. i loved it.
New Years we would fight back our sleep and wait for the ball to drop, then run around the house smashing into each other and hitting our pots and pans as loudly as possible, we'd scream and shake and after it was all over drop down from sheer exhaustion.
did people do that here, in the land of faulty watches and frozen clocks?
The pastor yelled enthusiastically for everyone to GET UP! people had grown into their chairs and struggled to free themselves.
"Now repeat after me!" he ordered. "Thank you God for the many blessings you bestowed upon us this past year." i could understand what he was saying, his accent was borderline thick. if i didn't try to listen too carefully it made it a lot easier. the words flowed into my ears.
we repeated "Thank you God for the many blessings you bestowed upon us this past year."
I'm always a little reluctant repeating things in church. it makes me feel funny. i chose right then to get over it.
"We pray that the year 2007" (he said 2007, two taaaaw-sind siven), "be filled with your g-dace and peace and understandeeng"
our turn.
"now" he looked out at us like he was a work-out master and we were just about to begin our routine. little did i know that was exactly what was about to happen, a true physical and spiritual workout was about to take place. the bodies were going to explode like a packet of confetti that suddenly grew arms and legs.
"God, we understand that with thoughts we reap actions, and with actions we reap habits, and with habits" he held his finger in the air and waved it around "we reap cha-ra-ca-ture!!!!!!!" then he got a little quieter and more serious and said "and with char-ra-ca-ture we reap our DESTINY."
we didn't repeat that. we just stared.
"now, God, we pray, we prrrrrrrraaayy our DESTINY reflects your good will and that you will guide us in the year two-taw-sind-siven! we thank you for your goodness and all the gifts you send to us every day! we pull these in!"
people started reaching their arms out and pulling them towards themselves. i looked at senam and asked 'what are they doing?'
"pulling in our blessings!" he said with an enormous grin on his face, his hands darting out in all directions.
"WE PULL THEM IN FROM THE MOON!" pastor yelled "AND FROM THE STARS!"
"we pull them in from the moon and from the stars!" we screamed back.
"WE PULL THEM IN FROM THE NORTH AND FROM THE SOUTH"
"we pull them in from the north and from the south!"
"FROM THE EAST AND THE WEST!"
arms were shooting over and grabbing in my space, people were letting loose and snatching at the air...
"NOW WE PUT ON OUR BOOTS, MADE OF IRON AND MADE OF BRASS" he bent over and slipped into his imaginary shoes "AND WE WALK ALL OVER ANY FORM OF EVIL THAT TRIES TO BLOCK OUR WAY! WE STOMP IT OUT!!!!!!!! WE STOMP IT OUT!!!"
everyone started walking and stomping, reciting in unison exactly what was just said. we all ran around stirring up mini clouds of dust, feeling powerful and inspired. it looked like hundreds of people were putting out mini-fires, and we were, i suppose.
"NOW WE GO TO THE EARTH AND WE PULL UP THE GOLD GOD HAS IN STORE FOR US FOR THE YEAR 2007!"
everyone bent over and started reaching their fingers low and long, some aggressively some delicately collecting their future promises.
this went on for a long time, enough for me to have seriously laughed hard in sheer delight at least 3 times.
i had really gone wild, taking this as my chance to creatively express everything i hadn't been able to voice to God, and doing it with the devotion of an actress on Broadway. i touched the moon, i saw the gold, my feet hurt from my new shoes. i never wanted it to stop.
i noticed a woman walking towards me, wearing the same purple color Ernestine had been in the other day, but this woman was HUGE! i looked at Senam who was bent over reaping his reward. i decided not to say anything, that she was the 3rd largest person i'd ever seen face to face.
but senam looked up just as she walked by. he leaned over to her and asked her something over all the commotion. she nodded, smiled, and gave him a big handshake.
he looked back over to me and said "its the lady from last night!"
i was happy to see her, happy to be celebrating with her. i felt close to her after having spent some time writing about her. she was now a part of my life so i yelled a hello over in towards that direction and she yelled one back.
"NOW GOD WILL COME TONITE AND RESTORE YOUR BODY FOR THE YEAR 2007! HE WILL GIVE YOU HEALTH AND WELLNESS AND TAKE AWAY EVERY BAD THING THAT IS INSIDE!!!!!!!!! HE WILL TAKE IT FROM YOU, FROM YOUR CHILDREN, FROM YOUR FAMILY, HE WILL DESTROY IT. BE GLAD AND KNOW!!!!!!!!!! I SAID, BE GLAD AND KNOW!"
then people started walking around like proud chickens, clucking and bowing to each other in their newly restored bodies. no one was still.
this continued for a good amount of time until we finally wished our neighbors a happy new year, instructed them to be wise with their time and keep prosperous thoughts, and then we spent the last 5 minutes of 2006 individually and simultaneously praying out loud about anything our hearts desired. everyone was spilling their souls.
the woman next to me was crying, out of happiness i think.
i think we prayed past the first 10 minutes of 2007, or at least that's how it felt. i had run out of things to say to God, and didn't want to stand there repeating myself, so i just observed.
The band broke through the prayers and clusters of singers on the small stage took over. the room inside erupted into a really serious dance party, people with their hands in the air twirling their white handkerchiefs around bumping in to each other but not seeming to notice. i looked over at Emma (Senam's girlfriend) and she said she was going in. If she was, so was I. I braced myself for what was about to happen, but realized it was more the type of thing you had to dive head first into.
the second my feet touched the interior i was swept away by a train of people, bumping their booties against me, elbows flinging all around, and really potent waves of b.o.
"2007!" i screamed, not able to hear my own voice over everything. "YAYYYYY!" i jumped and jumped and wiggled and danced. people worked their way around and put their hands on my hips forcing them to move the way they thought they should.
"silly people" i thought "i'll never be able to dance like them, even with their help." but it didn't matter, i just kept moving and yelling and never wanting it to stop.
it did though, eventually, after a very long time and my body drenched in sweat. i had to remove my layers, run the risk of exposing myself to the dreaded mosquito, and go outside to breathe fresh air. Senam asked me if i was enjoying myself. i think it was less of a question and more of a statement. i said yes, but that i was exhausted and was ready to leave at any time.
"What time is it?"
he checked his cell phone and replied "a little past 1".
"are we still going to the club?". i had to ask.
the question seemed so cheap after what we had just gone through.
"no. lets go home, besides tomorrow will be a big day at the hospital, don't you think?"
oh yah. the hospital, that place.
"sounds good to me." i said. and we left.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Happy New Year *14*
its New Year Eve, i just remembered that.
2 years ago, after the enormous tsunami hit in Asia, i stayed in the house and collaged for New Years Eve. I couldn't see why anyone would want to go out and party when millions of people were so deeply hurting. why anyone would want to destroy their bodies with poison when all these people were aching for health. why i would want to spend money on myself when organizations so desperately needed donations. why i'd want to go anywhere when all my family was right here.
i watched the news all night and cried. then i thought long and hard about my life. what is it that i want to do? this year, the year after, in 10 years. i grabbed stacks of magazines and started clipping images that i wanted to materialize into my reality. i did this with my cousin, who was about 10 at the time.
she puffy painted and glued horses all over hers.
i ended up filling about 5 jumbo sized index cards and taping them into a vertical display, each one hanging from the other.
the top card, had a picture of a seal. yes, the mammal, a seal. its face was plump and pleasant, she had a smirk so peaceful and serene that i could only interpret as being directly God derived. i wanted that smirk. i wanted that knowing. so i cut it out and pasted the image at the top. that was the most important thing to me.
next down the line i think i put a picture of a woman karate chopping her way over a cliffs edge. i didn't want to die, i wanted to become a black belt. i was moving to Taiwan and thought it'd be the perfect place to learn a martial art and develop some severe self-defense tactics. since then, that goal has sifted around and been filtered out. maybe one day.
the 3rd note card was a picture of a lady holding a fetal scope up to a pregnant woman's belly. i wanted to become a midwife. or so i thought. i wanted to see, at least, if i wanted to become a midwife. this picture was pasted over an image of low lying tropical rain forest and a long red dirt dusty road.
sound familiar?
every morning when i walk to work i marvel at the exactness of what i am looking at and what i had glued on my card. there is no disparity. i am living in the place i had glued on my card.
prior to coming here i had never seen it. in fact, my prayers before i came went something like this
"dear God, if this place doesn't exist please let me know why you sent me here."
i was doubting the legitimacy of the organization, for a few slight reasons. i had no idea i would be living in a place i had already seen, on my collage card.
the 4th card had a woman sitting at a laptop casually writing a novel.
and the last had a plan on how to pay off some petty debt.
i glued a picture of Gael Garcia Bernal on the flip side. he's the sexy Latin American who stars in The Motorcycle Diaries. He was just a symbol. i didn't want to make romantic love my main focus, it could occupy the backspace. although admittedly i was having a hard time not doing so. i had fallen head over heals for a man who satisfies every part of my soul. its not easy being madly in love and trying to pursue these things... one always seems to have to give way to the other.
i have to flip the card and focus separately.
in a perfect world i could move Mr. Marquez to the front, create a 5th card, and they could all dangle together. but for now, he was on the back, and the things on the front were all happening. well, at least some of them, the ones at the moment that are worth the flipping.
now, 2 years later, i'm sitting in this Internet lab waiting for a midwife to call me so i can go hang out with bulging bellied women. if i was to do the same thing tonite, cut and paste together some sort of intention board, i don't know what i would put.
now that i'm removed from America, from the incessant drive to 'do' and 'go' and 'strive' i feel complacent. or satisfied. or just unable to dream up some things to achieve. i'm pleased with what is happening here, even if Watchman and Secetry don't call for me in the night, and Ernestine forgets our date.
the Ghanaian mindset is very oriented towards the present. besides Ma asking me what i'll be eating for dinner every morning at 9, i've yet to see a lot of planning here. it is both a major stumbling block towards development, and one of poverty's greatest blessings. to be able to accept the present and not obsess over the future. i think every one could have a lot to learn from this way of thinking: to be happy and grateful that the tank has enough to get you to the station, instead of assuming you'll always be on full.
2 years ago, after the enormous tsunami hit in Asia, i stayed in the house and collaged for New Years Eve. I couldn't see why anyone would want to go out and party when millions of people were so deeply hurting. why anyone would want to destroy their bodies with poison when all these people were aching for health. why i would want to spend money on myself when organizations so desperately needed donations. why i'd want to go anywhere when all my family was right here.
i watched the news all night and cried. then i thought long and hard about my life. what is it that i want to do? this year, the year after, in 10 years. i grabbed stacks of magazines and started clipping images that i wanted to materialize into my reality. i did this with my cousin, who was about 10 at the time.
she puffy painted and glued horses all over hers.
i ended up filling about 5 jumbo sized index cards and taping them into a vertical display, each one hanging from the other.
the top card, had a picture of a seal. yes, the mammal, a seal. its face was plump and pleasant, she had a smirk so peaceful and serene that i could only interpret as being directly God derived. i wanted that smirk. i wanted that knowing. so i cut it out and pasted the image at the top. that was the most important thing to me.
next down the line i think i put a picture of a woman karate chopping her way over a cliffs edge. i didn't want to die, i wanted to become a black belt. i was moving to Taiwan and thought it'd be the perfect place to learn a martial art and develop some severe self-defense tactics. since then, that goal has sifted around and been filtered out. maybe one day.
the 3rd note card was a picture of a lady holding a fetal scope up to a pregnant woman's belly. i wanted to become a midwife. or so i thought. i wanted to see, at least, if i wanted to become a midwife. this picture was pasted over an image of low lying tropical rain forest and a long red dirt dusty road.
sound familiar?
every morning when i walk to work i marvel at the exactness of what i am looking at and what i had glued on my card. there is no disparity. i am living in the place i had glued on my card.
prior to coming here i had never seen it. in fact, my prayers before i came went something like this
"dear God, if this place doesn't exist please let me know why you sent me here."
i was doubting the legitimacy of the organization, for a few slight reasons. i had no idea i would be living in a place i had already seen, on my collage card.
the 4th card had a woman sitting at a laptop casually writing a novel.
and the last had a plan on how to pay off some petty debt.
i glued a picture of Gael Garcia Bernal on the flip side. he's the sexy Latin American who stars in The Motorcycle Diaries. He was just a symbol. i didn't want to make romantic love my main focus, it could occupy the backspace. although admittedly i was having a hard time not doing so. i had fallen head over heals for a man who satisfies every part of my soul. its not easy being madly in love and trying to pursue these things... one always seems to have to give way to the other.
i have to flip the card and focus separately.
in a perfect world i could move Mr. Marquez to the front, create a 5th card, and they could all dangle together. but for now, he was on the back, and the things on the front were all happening. well, at least some of them, the ones at the moment that are worth the flipping.
now, 2 years later, i'm sitting in this Internet lab waiting for a midwife to call me so i can go hang out with bulging bellied women. if i was to do the same thing tonite, cut and paste together some sort of intention board, i don't know what i would put.
now that i'm removed from America, from the incessant drive to 'do' and 'go' and 'strive' i feel complacent. or satisfied. or just unable to dream up some things to achieve. i'm pleased with what is happening here, even if Watchman and Secetry don't call for me in the night, and Ernestine forgets our date.
the Ghanaian mindset is very oriented towards the present. besides Ma asking me what i'll be eating for dinner every morning at 9, i've yet to see a lot of planning here. it is both a major stumbling block towards development, and one of poverty's greatest blessings. to be able to accept the present and not obsess over the future. i think every one could have a lot to learn from this way of thinking: to be happy and grateful that the tank has enough to get you to the station, instead of assuming you'll always be on full.
*12*
i've been waiting for Ernestine to call me and bring me to the hospital to tour the maternity ward. this morning i walked over to Gilbert's (senam's brother) room and knocked on his door.
He poked his head out from behind the lace curtain hanging over the entry way.
"Oh hello Kacie. How are you?"
"i'm doing well, thank you."
"what can i do for you?" he asked.
"have you seen Ernestine today? I am supposed to go with her to the hospital and i wasn't sure what time we were leaving."
"oh riiiiight. okay. let me just put on my shoes and go figure that out for you. here, come in, i'm sure you wouldn't mind passing some time by watching a little James Bond, would you?"
"of coarse not." i said. i am starting to like the movies. so i sat down on the couch and sort of nuzzled in. i was feeling more comfortable with Gilbert now after our tro tro ride the night before. he gave up his shoulder to me as a pillow, and kept checking to see if i was comfortable.
somehow having 4 people and a stickshift all tangled up with each other promotes intimacy.
"i'll be right back" he said.
i didn't notice when he came in because i was so enthralled with what i was watching.
its 5:30 and Ernestine has yet to call. i've watched 3 movies today and walked from internet lab to internet lab, looking for one open on a sunday.
"are you open?" i asked a man standing outside some barred up doors.
"oh misses, we will be opening at 3:00."
i shot him an 'are you sure look'.
"oh yes, 3:00 we will open, most certainly."
i looked at my watch. "but it's 4:00" i said.
"oh" he pulled his neck back and frowned. he looked at his watch. but from having observed people recently i've found watches are more for style and proof of class than function. Gilbert wears a watch that doesn't even tick.
"well then" he said "my boys should be coming soon. you just wait here, the lab will open. take that chair."
some random person brought the plastic chair over to me and dusted it off. they held out their hand to sit, so i did.
i sat and sat and sat, until i had to give myself a little talking to.
why was i still sitting waiting for this place to open up? who knows when or if it really was going to? where was that man who seemed to know it was going to open? for all i knew he was sprinting down some road to tell his brother the internet lab had business and to come quick and unlock the door. if that was the case, it would take hours before the computers and internet were actually hooked up.
i'm out of here, i thought.
i left feeling like i had to sneak away. i made up some excuses just in case i got caught, and then jumped in a cab. the driver took me to a working internet lab, where i'm typing... a little bored... don't have a lot to say... but don't have much to do either... maybe i'll go watch some more movies. tommorow is my last day here, which means my last day with electricity and close friends...
He poked his head out from behind the lace curtain hanging over the entry way.
"Oh hello Kacie. How are you?"
"i'm doing well, thank you."
"what can i do for you?" he asked.
"have you seen Ernestine today? I am supposed to go with her to the hospital and i wasn't sure what time we were leaving."
"oh riiiiight. okay. let me just put on my shoes and go figure that out for you. here, come in, i'm sure you wouldn't mind passing some time by watching a little James Bond, would you?"
"of coarse not." i said. i am starting to like the movies. so i sat down on the couch and sort of nuzzled in. i was feeling more comfortable with Gilbert now after our tro tro ride the night before. he gave up his shoulder to me as a pillow, and kept checking to see if i was comfortable.
somehow having 4 people and a stickshift all tangled up with each other promotes intimacy.
"i'll be right back" he said.
i didn't notice when he came in because i was so enthralled with what i was watching.
its 5:30 and Ernestine has yet to call. i've watched 3 movies today and walked from internet lab to internet lab, looking for one open on a sunday.
"are you open?" i asked a man standing outside some barred up doors.
"oh misses, we will be opening at 3:00."
i shot him an 'are you sure look'.
"oh yes, 3:00 we will open, most certainly."
i looked at my watch. "but it's 4:00" i said.
"oh" he pulled his neck back and frowned. he looked at his watch. but from having observed people recently i've found watches are more for style and proof of class than function. Gilbert wears a watch that doesn't even tick.
"well then" he said "my boys should be coming soon. you just wait here, the lab will open. take that chair."
some random person brought the plastic chair over to me and dusted it off. they held out their hand to sit, so i did.
i sat and sat and sat, until i had to give myself a little talking to.
why was i still sitting waiting for this place to open up? who knows when or if it really was going to? where was that man who seemed to know it was going to open? for all i knew he was sprinting down some road to tell his brother the internet lab had business and to come quick and unlock the door. if that was the case, it would take hours before the computers and internet were actually hooked up.
i'm out of here, i thought.
i left feeling like i had to sneak away. i made up some excuses just in case i got caught, and then jumped in a cab. the driver took me to a working internet lab, where i'm typing... a little bored... don't have a lot to say... but don't have much to do either... maybe i'll go watch some more movies. tommorow is my last day here, which means my last day with electricity and close friends...
life on the road *11*
Last night i was 3 hours from Ho, the city i am currently vacationing in. Me, Senam and his brother, Senams girlfriend and another friend decided to visit some local waterfalls. They are one of the sightseeing highlights in Ghana, and after a short hike up through some "jungle" you can relax and swim at the base of it's enormous downpour. Its refreshingly beautiful and always nice to get some exercise too.
Our cab driver was late picking us up (sometime after 7 pm), which bumped us into a tro tro (overcrowded van-like cars that work as public transportation) that was completely empty. we sat in the dark for 2 more hours waiting for the car to fill up with passengers.
typically, in the west, we'd fit about 7 or 8 people in these cars and applaud ourselves for carpooling.
here, in Ghana, the car isn't considered full until at least 16 people have bought a seat.
we had 14 going, and were waiting for the last two to straggle in.
it was taking so long that i had fallen asleep on the bench directly behind the drivers seat, and had my legs sprawled over what would be the remaining two seats. when i had gone to bed just me and my friends had spots reserved. when i had awoke the entire car was full, almost.
"press close against the window" somebody told me. they were directing me to squeeze and make room.
i looked around for my friends. 2 behind me and 2 in front. check.
but why were they all laughing at me?
Dela, one of the ladies, crinkles up her entire nose until it almost hits her forehead when she laughs (i think i might do something similar). whatever they were laughing at seemed to be really funny.
senam leaned forward and patted my shoulder a few times. i turned around and asked him what was going on?
"well it looks like we are going to have to squeeze" and he pointed to the two women who had purchased the last two seats.
now, i am not one to make fun of people who are overweight, but the idea that these ladies were going to fit into this overcrowded car, and going to fit in next to me, was preposterous. even the locals thought it was funny.
these women weren't large, they were huge, and it wasn't physically possible to get all of us on one bench seat and make it there alive.
3 days earlier i witnessed the slow death of a few chickens aboard a tro tro, due to overcrowding and heat, and i wasn't about to let that happen to me.
"um i don't think so." i cried.
Dela hadn't stopped laughing.
the women were boarding.
"um no, i don't think so." i felt like a skinny stuck up white girl. but i didn't care. "we can't fit!" and i shook my head like somebody who was about to be robbed.
the driver was smirking at me, as were all the other passengers.
my friends in the front whispered back "human airbags". i felt sick that it was turning into a joke, but i suppose 40 skinny people crowded on a bench would have been just as funny. it wasn't the character behind the weight, it was the situation the weight was in.
1 of the women took up at least 2 seats. there were 2 women and we were sitting on a 4 seater. the math wasn't adding up. so Senam explained to the driver exactly why this wasn't going to work. he eventually agreed and plopped me in the front seat. i did the sign of the cross and got ready to go. some children ran up to the car and crawled onto the women's laps.
"they have kids too?" i asked Gilbert. "they expected us ALL to fit there?"
He raised his eyebrows, which is the silent way to say "yes".
i've seen some pretty amazing things here, but the law of physics holds true no matter what. the 4 seater was fitting just 2 bodies. i suppose i could have sat on their laps too, but squeezing 4 people into the front wasn't all that bad.
when i studied abroad here our country advisor told us all about the tro tros. she let us in on an unsettling secret "sit in the 3rd row back, right in the middle, that way if you get in an accident your chances of survival are higher. the bodies will cushion the blow".
it seemed like sound advice, but not really what you want to hear when you first move to a foreign country. i never forgot it though, and every time i load up i can hear her voice like a little recorder in my head. when i was asking to move, part of me was thinking, i really should volunteer to sit between the two ladies.
accidents are not rare here.
late at night in the village, when i'm sleeping, i can hear tro tros racing down the accra-kumasi road (kind of like the state highway) miles away. sometimes i swat at my ear. they go so fast it sounds like i'm about to be a mosquito's feast. then i realize what i realized the night before. its the cars, not mosquitoes. i say a little prayer for the car and then go back to bed.
the veil of youth is slowly being lifted from my eyes and mortality is something that is beginning to take a blurry shape and form.
3 years back i hitchhiked the length of Ghana with my friend Crystal, through rainstorms in the back of pick-up trucks. It was incredible, but i wouldn't do that now.
is it a small loss of sense of adventure, or the first step in acquiring a little common sense? maybe neither, maybe both. but whatever it is, at least my mom can feel a little more at peace :)
Our cab driver was late picking us up (sometime after 7 pm), which bumped us into a tro tro (overcrowded van-like cars that work as public transportation) that was completely empty. we sat in the dark for 2 more hours waiting for the car to fill up with passengers.
typically, in the west, we'd fit about 7 or 8 people in these cars and applaud ourselves for carpooling.
here, in Ghana, the car isn't considered full until at least 16 people have bought a seat.
we had 14 going, and were waiting for the last two to straggle in.
it was taking so long that i had fallen asleep on the bench directly behind the drivers seat, and had my legs sprawled over what would be the remaining two seats. when i had gone to bed just me and my friends had spots reserved. when i had awoke the entire car was full, almost.
"press close against the window" somebody told me. they were directing me to squeeze and make room.
i looked around for my friends. 2 behind me and 2 in front. check.
but why were they all laughing at me?
Dela, one of the ladies, crinkles up her entire nose until it almost hits her forehead when she laughs (i think i might do something similar). whatever they were laughing at seemed to be really funny.
senam leaned forward and patted my shoulder a few times. i turned around and asked him what was going on?
"well it looks like we are going to have to squeeze" and he pointed to the two women who had purchased the last two seats.
now, i am not one to make fun of people who are overweight, but the idea that these ladies were going to fit into this overcrowded car, and going to fit in next to me, was preposterous. even the locals thought it was funny.
these women weren't large, they were huge, and it wasn't physically possible to get all of us on one bench seat and make it there alive.
3 days earlier i witnessed the slow death of a few chickens aboard a tro tro, due to overcrowding and heat, and i wasn't about to let that happen to me.
"um i don't think so." i cried.
Dela hadn't stopped laughing.
the women were boarding.
"um no, i don't think so." i felt like a skinny stuck up white girl. but i didn't care. "we can't fit!" and i shook my head like somebody who was about to be robbed.
the driver was smirking at me, as were all the other passengers.
my friends in the front whispered back "human airbags". i felt sick that it was turning into a joke, but i suppose 40 skinny people crowded on a bench would have been just as funny. it wasn't the character behind the weight, it was the situation the weight was in.
1 of the women took up at least 2 seats. there were 2 women and we were sitting on a 4 seater. the math wasn't adding up. so Senam explained to the driver exactly why this wasn't going to work. he eventually agreed and plopped me in the front seat. i did the sign of the cross and got ready to go. some children ran up to the car and crawled onto the women's laps.
"they have kids too?" i asked Gilbert. "they expected us ALL to fit there?"
He raised his eyebrows, which is the silent way to say "yes".
i've seen some pretty amazing things here, but the law of physics holds true no matter what. the 4 seater was fitting just 2 bodies. i suppose i could have sat on their laps too, but squeezing 4 people into the front wasn't all that bad.
when i studied abroad here our country advisor told us all about the tro tros. she let us in on an unsettling secret "sit in the 3rd row back, right in the middle, that way if you get in an accident your chances of survival are higher. the bodies will cushion the blow".
it seemed like sound advice, but not really what you want to hear when you first move to a foreign country. i never forgot it though, and every time i load up i can hear her voice like a little recorder in my head. when i was asking to move, part of me was thinking, i really should volunteer to sit between the two ladies.
accidents are not rare here.
late at night in the village, when i'm sleeping, i can hear tro tros racing down the accra-kumasi road (kind of like the state highway) miles away. sometimes i swat at my ear. they go so fast it sounds like i'm about to be a mosquito's feast. then i realize what i realized the night before. its the cars, not mosquitoes. i say a little prayer for the car and then go back to bed.
the veil of youth is slowly being lifted from my eyes and mortality is something that is beginning to take a blurry shape and form.
3 years back i hitchhiked the length of Ghana with my friend Crystal, through rainstorms in the back of pick-up trucks. It was incredible, but i wouldn't do that now.
is it a small loss of sense of adventure, or the first step in acquiring a little common sense? maybe neither, maybe both. but whatever it is, at least my mom can feel a little more at peace :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
